Sherlock Holmes' Soft Side
by High-Functioning Sociopath SH
Summary: When Sherlock is forced to date a friend of Sarah's, no one expected the chemistry that resulted. But even more surprising, no one expected her to be the perfect addition to his investigation group...
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes regretfully stepped into the bar, John and Sarah's presence behind him the only thing stopping him from turning back. Sarah had been so insistent upon Sherlock meeting one of her friends, and with John agreeing with everything she said, it was hard for Sherlock to decline both of them and still have the silence in his flat that he so desired. The only plus side to this is to show to everyone that he is, indeed, married to his work, and hopefully have all speculations taken off him for a while. That and the fact that all the serial killers seemed to be on vacation, and had left him terribly bored, meant he was traipsing towards a stool facing the bar.

Sarah headed off into the small crowd to find her friend, leaving Sherlock and John alone.

"Nervous?" John asked.

"About what?" Sherlock responded, mind wandering to things that were more deserving of his valuable time.

"Your date" John answered, bugged at Sherlock's inability to focus on the date which meant so much to Sarah, "Could you at least _try_ to pay attention? Sarah has particularly high hopes"

"And that affects me how...?"

"Can you show a little bit of emotion for a couple minutes and humour her? All you have to do is meet her"  
>"I doubt if I left after meeting her that you would be very impressed"<br>"I believe I already said I want you to show some human emotion. Any time you want to start is fine by me" John said sarcastically, and Sherlock sighed.

Suddenly, a skinny blond sidled up to Sherlock's side, clad in a bulging tube top and skirt that's length was defeating its purpose. Sherlock looked at John with an expression that made his feelings clear- 'Get me out of here'

"Why hello there, I'm Tiffany. Who would this handsome devil be?" The blond said to Sherlock, batting her obviously fake lashes flirtatiously, and leaning over to give Sherlock a clear view down her top. Sherlock, however, looked her straight in the eye when he responded.

"You're not Tiffany, you're June and you are cheating on your... fiancé. You have come out here tonight in an attempt to get men while you trick your fiancé, a game you have played for a while. You are with your fiancé only for the money; you have no emotional attachment to him..."

"Piss off!" So-called Tiffany said, storming out of the bar with a tear in her eye.

"How'd you figure that one out?" John asked

"She had a bracelet with her name, June, on it. It was studded with a small amount of real diamonds, an extremely expensive purchase, and yet her clothes were made of a cheap fabric, so the bracelet was a gift. Her ring finger had a pale circle around it, so a husband or fiancé, but as her clothes are cheap, she does not have the same funds at the bracelet-buyer. It could not have been brought by a lover because of her fake name, hence a fiancé. You could tell she had done this before because of a tooth-paste stain on her handbag..."

"A what?"

"Tooth-paste stain, from when she has been stuffing a recently-used tooth-brush into her bag, meaning she is not able to go home."

"The master at work again, I see." Sarah said, emerging from the crowd. "Now that you've had your exciting deduction for the evening, I'd like to introduce you to Claire Hofcraft, a friend of mine. Claire, this is Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock shook Claire's hand, and motioned for her to sit on the stool beside his. She was a pretty woman, not someone to attract the eye, but it was easy to see the beauty in her if you looked close. Her strongest feature was her eyes, blue and bright.

"I guess we'll just leave you two alone then..." Sarah said, gently dragging John away.

"They seem to be going well" Sarah said to John, spying on Sherlock and Claire in the corner of the room. They were engaged in what seemed to be an easy conversation, both using hand gestures to try and explain something.

"Better than what can I expected of Sherlock, I'll admit" John confessed. "But I doubt it will become anything but a friendship. Married to his work and all."

"Surely it's more interesting than shooting bullets into a wall, don't you agree?" Sarah said, reminding him of Sherlock's more crazy ways to kill boredom.

"Perhaps, but I'm sure there will be another psychopath to fulfil his time."

"But for how long, John? Psychopaths aren't dime-a-dozen citizens of London, you know. Maybe he has extinguished the sources in the area?"  
>"I sure hope not, or Mrs. Hudson won't have a wall left." John said, and the two let the conversation drop into silence for a minute, considering what would become of Sherlock without any more psychopaths' plans to foil, when John's mobile chirped, signalling a text.<p>

**John, can you tell Sherlock to pick up his damn cell? We've got a case.**

**Lestrade**

"Looks like we don't have to worry about Sherlock's boredom just yet." John commented.

John bid Sarah farewell, and headed over to Sherlock at the bar.

"Lestrade told me to tell you to pick up your cell" He said, interrupting Sherlock's rendition of some of his cases.

"Lestrade? Really?" He asked, starting to get a bit pumped.

"Yep. It was lovely to meet you Claire, and I'm sorry to take Sherlock away right at this inopportune moment, but he's got a case" John said, trying to wrap up this conversation before Lestrade started knocking on Baker Street's door, only to find no one at home.

"Well, it was lovely to meet you both. I hope to see you again soon" Claire said, understanding the hurried tone in John's voice.

"I had a great time with you tonight. Would it be too forward to ask for your number?" Sherlock asked Claire, pulling on his jacket while doing so.

"No, not at all" She said, writing eight digits on a piece of paper from her purse and handing it to him. "I hope to hear from you again soon, Sherlock. Enjoy your case" She said, walking from the bar.

"How do you feel, Sherlock?" John asked, once they were in a cab on the way to the crime scene, curious to his friend's reactions to his first date.

"Well, it certainly makes me rethink some things, let's put it that way"

"So perhaps a divorce to your work is required?"

"Now, don't get ahead of yourself here. She's a nice girl and all, but my desire for a clever killer is still my primary concern"

"I see" John said. They looked out the windows of the cab in silence, both lost in thought.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is my first published story, and my first mystery. Rated T for future chapters. All comments, good or bad, are greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

They arrived at the crime scene at around 11pm, but it did not seem less busy than normal because of the late hour. Lestrade was there to greet them when they arrived, but unfortunately, so was Anderson.

"Donovan been scrubbing floors again, Anderson?" Sherlock said snidely, quickly passing him before he could reply.

DI Lestrade explained the case;

"A by-passer called it in. He saw a black figure fall off the top of a building, and called police, and when they investigated, they found the figure was actually a burnt person covered in a thick black blanket. The marks are extremely severe, victim's been burning for around a day. The fire was only put out in the last two hours or so, the victim is still wet from the killer extinguishing the flames. It would have been hard to see in the dark, so no-one knew anything until the victim had hit the pavement."  
>"How come the door of the business complex is open?" John asked<p>

"If we knew, you wouldn't be here. Someone should have locked it before they left, but the person responsible for locking up has dropped the key down a drain in his house, and the owner has had to lock up and open the complex for the last few days until a spare key can be made. But the business was closed today, as it is Sunday, and the owner was away in another part of London, visiting relatives. His alibi is confirmed, and we're checking the drain alibi as we speak. No ID on the victim as of yet, but we're working on it."

"Hmm" Sherlock said, deep in thought. "So no idea on how the victim got in?"  
>"None. We know he left via the doors, we found some male footprints that were left in the last 24 hours, only one pair, and they were exiting footprints, not entering. They were slightly damp from extinguishing the flames, so we know it was the murderer"<p>

"So the first question is how he got in" Sherlock surmised, looking around the entrance, looking for details. He couldn't climb and carry a person, especially not without being seen. All the windows were closed, and according to Lestrade, locked. The only markings on them were from weeks ago, as it was cold and the heater had been on. Sherlock looked around for a hidden entrance, a fake wall, but he found nothing. The police squad were slowly leaving, figuring they would work better after some sleep. Eventually, even Anderson and Lestrade had had enough. John managed to take Sherlock away, too, telling him he would be able to come back tomorrow when there was a better light.

Obviously Sherlock couldn't sleep, instead paced around his apartment until he felt the need to pull out his violin. John was dozing on the couch, but was woken by the sounds of the violin. The look on Sherlock's face was a concentrated frustration, and it was clear he couldn't figure out how the killer got inside. He was convinced there must be a secret door, another entry, and was anxious to continue searching for it. Almost two hours later, Sherlock lay down his violin and began pacing again; trying to picture the building and an area he had not searched.

By morning, he had figured a few spots that he wasn't sure he'd checked well in the dark, but was still pretty certain he had. It wasn't very much to go on, but he was desperate for evidence. With serial killers, you had to wait for them to slip up, and it seemed that this one hadn't yet- assuming he was, in fact, a serial killer.

"It's so hard, I feel like there's something right there and I can't see it, I can't focus on it properly!" Sherlock complained, to no one in particular. Sherlock had just woken John up so he could get ready to go to the crime scene faster.

"I can't figure it out! How did he get in?" Sherlock continued to yell, as if telling the world his problem would fix it, but he knew too well that John was the only person that could hear him, and he was more puzzled than Sherlock. As was everyone else, Anderson, Lestrade, they all knew Sherlock could get the answer, would get the answer, and so did Sherlock. He just didn't quite know how yet.

"What you need is to forget about it, and come back to it" John said wearily.

"And what could possibly distract my mind from the case?" Sherlock asked, knowing that nothing would come between him and a case.

"Well, _normal _men would meet up with a date to distract themselves from something"

"But normal men would not become addicted to a crime in the first place" Sherlock rebutted. John sighed, and dragged himself off the couch.

"No, normal men would not. You want something to eat?"

"No. Thinking" Was all Sherlock said, as he descended into silence one again.

After John had gotten ready, and Sherlock had thought in silence some more, the two headed off for the crime scene once more. Sherlock was still convinced in a secret panel of some type. The owner had arrived back in the local part of London very early that morning, but after a few coffees was readily dealing with the press and the police's question. Having been a part of designing the building, he was quite against Sherlock searching it for a secret panel, energetically denying any such panel. After almost of an hour of Sherlock searching in vain, Anderson came over to him.

"Face it, you've got no clue. Now get off the scene so we can do the serious investigating" He commanded, and although Sherlock felt himself his superior, he was right about having no clue, and accepted the fact that he would be more successful figuring out this crime with his violin at home. Slightly depressed, Sherlock and John headed to 221B Baker Street.

In the cab, John asked him about his suspicions, and he sadly confessed he was coming up blank. After a long silence, Sherlock sighed.

"John, do you remember which pocket I put Claire's number in?"

"Bottom left... you're going to call her?"

"I can't think of any better ideas, even though this is quite a pathetic one" Sherlock said. John decided to take it as a compliment instead of an insult. He had, after all, come up with the idea.

He watched as Sherlock called Claire, and considered how normal he was at that very moment.

A/N: Please tell me your opinions by leaving a comment, good or bad. It will greatly help me to improve the stories. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello, Claire, its Sherlock. You want to meet for coffee or something?" Sherlock said awkwardly.

"Sure" Said Claire, ignoring the awkwardness in his tone, and trying to replace it with glowing confidence. "Where would you like to meet?"  
>"Umm..." Said Sherlock, not sure of where is appropriate.<p>

"Say the Cafe Teo" John whispered. He'd seen the shop on Baker Street before.

"The Cafe Teo" Sherlock said. Light laughter on the other end.

"Tell John he can come too, since he seems to be your adviser. Meet you there in an hour" She said.

"Sounds good. See you then" Sherlock said, before ending the call. "Are you coming?" Sherlock asked, knowing that John had been listening in due to his cafe comment.

"If you want me"

"Sounds good to me, since it was your idea after all" Sherlock had to admit he felt better knowing John was coming.

That's how Sherlock and John ended up at Cafe Teo an hour later to an awaiting Claire. The three had no problems getting a table.

"So, how's the case going?" Was Claire's first question, and John could have hit himself for it. That wasn't exactly the way it had gone in his head. Sherlock, however, seemed right at home explaining the case to her in detail, and although it hadn't happened the way John planned, Sherlock had seemed to have calmed down about it quite a bit, more able to pleasantly review the facts instead of scream at his misunderstanding.

"...So now, I'm trying to figure how the killer got into the office." Sherlock finished explaining.

"A window?" Claire suggested

"All locked, and no marks in the last week or so." Sherlock said.

"Hidden entrance?"

"I spent most of last night and a few hours this morning searching for one, and I can't find one anywhere."

"Hmm... This is tricky. Well, let's write a list" She said, and extracted a small notepad from her bag. "What possible ways can you get into or onto a building? All options, not just ones possible to this case. Obvious ones first, as they are often the most forgotten."

"Most obvious through the front door, second through the back door" John said, and Claire jotted them down.

"And any other doors the building could have" Sherlock added. "Through a window would come next, I suppose" Claire jotted that down too.

"There are always the particularly clever climbers" John said.

"And back to the trap door" Claire said, adding all options to her list. The group sat in silent thinking for a while, visualising how people could get in.

"You could land on top of the building" John said, remembering in the army how men who had a bad fall from attempting to do just that had ended up under his care.

"I think that's ever..." Claire started, but was cut off by Sherlock's phone.

"Excuse me a moment" He said, taking the call.

"Hello? Ahh, Lestrade, hang on a sec, I'll put you on speaker" Sherlock pressed a button on the phone and it jumped to loudspeaker, so now John and Claire could also hear the conversation clearly.

"Results are back on the victim. Kate Rile, she worked at the complex"

"Really?" John said, shocked.

"Yea. You want to come down and take a look at her?"

"Yes. I'll be there later this afternoon" Sherlock said

"Later this afternoon? That's unlike you, Sherlock"

"Goodbye" Sherlock said coldly, ending the call before Lestrade could reply.

"You were saying, Claire?"

"I think we have listed every possible entry point to the building or the roof itself. We've got the front door, the back door, any side doors, windows, climbing the wall, trap doors and flying on to the roof."

"We can eliminate back and side doors, because there weren't any" John said

"The windows weren't opened for weeks, and climbing the wall with a girl- especially without being noticed- is impossible."

"He couldn't go in the front door, because there was only one set of footprints from the last 24 hours." Said John and Sherlock's eyes lit up.

"I think I know how he got in" Sherlock said blankly.

"How?" Claire said, but Sherlock waved her question away.

"He doesn't like to share his deductions until he's sure they're right" John explained to her, and she nodded her understanding. Sherlock's face was a mask of concentration, and Claire seemed to figure out not to talk when he was concentrating.

"Let's go" He said suddenly, and quickly stood up.

"I guess I'll see you later then" Claire said.

"You're coming with us" Sherlock said, to the surprise of John and Claire, as he almost ran out of the cafe in search of a taxi, with Claire and John in pursuit.

"Where exactly are we going?" John asked

"Crime scene, obviously" Sherlock said absently, flagging down a cab and stepping inside. John and Claire followed him in. The concentrated mask returned to Sherlock's face, so John quickly told the cabbie the destination and they sat in silence. When they arrived, Sherlock quickly leapt from the cab before it had quite stopped, and stood, silent and concentrating. Claire paid the cabbie as John went after Sherlock, and three were soon next to the police tape, and with it, Sergeant Sally Donovan.

"Hello freak. Lestrade told me to expect you. He didn't tell me to expect her, though" She said, pointing a thumb at Clair. Sherlock slipped under the tape.

"She's with me" He said.

"You already have one helper. What do you need another one for?"

"If you let Anderson have only one man, he'd be more completely useless than he already is. All I ask for is two." He said, holding up the tape for John and Claire to duck under.

"Here so soon, Sherlock. I thought you said you'd be here later. And who's this new girl?" Lestrade said, coming over to the small group.

"Yes, I have a theory to test" Sherlock said, heading for the door of the building.

"Not so fast. I said; who's the new girl?" Lestrade said

"My assistant" Sherlock said, trying to push past Lestrade.

"I thought John was your assistant?" Lestrade asked.

"I have two. As I was just explaining to Donovan, if Anderson..."

"Oh, just go in" Lestrade said, waving him by. He had more important things to do. Sherlock rushed into the building with his 'assistants'; searching in every room for something.

"What are you looking for?" Claire asked

"Burn marks" Sherlock replied. Claire nodded. Sherlock opened the door to a private office, and the overwhelming smell of smoke greeted the trio.

"We're close" Sherlock said, and the group started looking closer at everything they saw. Claire headed straight for the obvious place to hide someone in an office- under the desk. The chair had been moved so it was easy to get to, but when she looked there was no marks at all, despite a distinct smell. She crouched down to get a better view.

"I don't get it. Where are the marks?" Claire exclaimed. Sherlock came around behind her, and crouched down next to her, peering over her shoulder. John stood behind them, looking at the small space as if staring at it would make the marks appear.

"Could it have been cleaned?" John asked

"No, you would be able to smell the cleaning product" Sherlock answered.

"So it's not over, there's no room for left, right, forward or behind..." Claire muttered to herself "So it must be... under?"

"How do you figure that out?" John asked, but Sherlock seemed to understand her train of thought and began feeling around for a break in the carpet.

"It has to be there, it can't be anywhere else. Everywhere else is too obvious, and the smell is stronger here. It has to be right there, but it's not. So it must be left, right, forward, behind, under or over that space. There's not enough room around it to be anything but under or over. It's not over the carpet, because the marks can't have been removed... or..." All three looked at the floor under the mat as Sherlock lifted it up, a strong burn mark visible.

"It's not big enough for her to be burned _on_ the floor, though, it had a layer between her and the floor" Sherlock said "But then Claire brought up a valid point about replacing that square of carpet."  
>"But where would he dispose of it?" John asked. The three started searching the room, with Sherlock and John searching the drawers and Claire searching the rest of the office, until John lifted up a burnt piece of carpet- what remained of it anyway- just as Inspector Lestrade entered the room.<p>

"You've been busy" He said

"This proves the theory" Sherlock said "I think the murderer worked here, just like the victim. That's how he got into the building- he never left. He trapped the victim here in the morning, and had the victim here all day, burning, as he did his normal job, and hid here when it was time to leave. When the place was locked up, he extinguished the fire, replaced the carpet square, wrapped her in a black blanket and threw her off the edge of the roof."

"How'd he get out of the building unnoticed?" Claire asked

"He must have been the bystander!" Sherlock exclaimed "Were there people here when you got arrived, Lestrade?"  
>"Yes, there were a bunch of three walking along the other side of the path, but the tip-off man had disappeared"<p>

"Could you track the call of the tip-off guy?" John asked

"No, he was calling from the payphone a few metres away." Lestrade answered

"So the chase continues" Sherlock murmured. "I'll need the shoes of every male who worked here checked against the footprints. There's bound to be a match somewhere. Tell them that they can come back into work, so they don't wear different shoes. Does anyone know whose office this is?"

"I'll find out" Lestrade said, walking away to get the information

"I bet it's the victim's, what was her name?" Claire said

"I agree, I think it will be Kate's" Sherlock said "It's one office sure to stay empty for the day. Empty from the living, anyway."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, as it turns out, it belongs to the victim, Kate" Lestrade said to the group, confirming their suspicions.

"Shouldn't you ask the employees if anyone saw someone enter Kate's office Saturday afternoon?" John asked

"We are, and we've told the men that the place is open again to get footprint analysis, but it might take a while for everyone to arrive and tell their story and stuff" Lestrade said

"Let's focus on another question then- What's the motive?" Sherlock said, and all went silent in thought.

"I'll leave you guys to it" Lestrade said eventually, and left the group in the office. Silence overtook the room again.

"Maybe she had a lover in the office?" Claire finally broke the silence "Is she married?" More silence as no-one had an answer. "I'll go check with Lestrade"

"Ask for some information on her ranking in the office while you're there, there may have been someone below her that wanted her position" Sherlock said, and Claire nodded in response.

"I was right" John said, after Claire had descended down the steps to Lestrade.

"How so? Only Claire and I guessed the room would belong to Kate."

"I was right about Claire helping, though. Even if it wasn't in the way I expected"

"Ok, you got me there. She has been helpful"

"She's definitely a smart one" John said, and the silence returned. It was broken a minute later by Claire re-entering the office.

"Lestrade said he'd ask about the lover, but she had no partner. As for position in the office, she was fairly high-up, but everyone he'd talked to so far had said she was a lovely woman, very kind and not demanding. Overall, she had no enemies on that standpoint."

"Well I guess it looks more like an office romance gone wrong" Said Sherlock

"Seems that way" John said

"Time to figure out whom with" Said Claire

"How are we going to do that? Isn't that what Lestrade is trying to do?" John said, doubtful.

"We know a little about the girl. She doesn't seem the type to go for a married fellow. We should search the building for an office, probably near hers, that shows some sign of her. It's likely they would have something of hers in their office, or more likely the office bin, seeing as she's now dead. What harm can trying do?" Said Claire, trying to convince Sherlock and John

"What are the chances of finding one thing in an entire office?" John said

"There's three of us, and there's nothing wrong with searching" Claire said.

"May as well" Sherlock said "No point in just waiting around. Which room do we start in?"  
>"The ones near hers."Claire said, and they all exited Kate's office. They entered the one on the right of Kate's.<p>

"Next" Said Claire, almost the instant she stepped in the room.

"How'd you figure that out?" John questioned. Sherlock saw what Claire meant and moved to the next room.

"The picture on the shelf, it's of a family. The person who works in this office has a wife or husband and kids" Claire explained to John. They saw Sherlock exit a room and enter another five doors down.

"This is easier than I thought" Called Sherlock from down the hall. John and Claire walked over to the fifth door, only to have Sherlock exit it and make them all move to the next one. Each of them noticed different things, some rooms were dismissed quickly, some took a little longer, but they were all dismissed within thirty seconds. Suddenly, Sherlock stopped searching.

"The carpet! It had to have come from one of these rooms, how else would no-one notice!" He exclaimed, and realization dawned on the other two in the group. All had assumed the killer had brought it with him, hidden it in a briefcase or something, but it made sense he would get it from his own office. People would search Kate's office, but not his own. The group split, each searching all the room's quickly to check for missing carpet. It didn't take long for John to find the hole in a room. Sherlock and Claire went to fetch Lestrade while John stayed in the room.

The owner of the room was quickly identified, and it was soon realized he was missing from the employees being interviewed. The police split up, some went to the killer's apartment and some, at Sherlock's request, went to the London City Airport. It was the airport group that captured the very disgruntled Jack Blaine, whom it turned out, was indeed Kate's secret lover. His cold-heartedness had turned her away, and he didn't take it well. She had been the only person that he communicated with out of work, and his depression and loneliness had spiraled into hatred enough to kill her. He had a history of mental issues, and something inside of him snapped. He was sent to the police station. All in all, a very successful case.

Once word had got back to the building that Jack was caught, the buzz of the place seemed to calm down. Some paperwork would need to be done, some cleaning up, but as a general rule the case was closed. Sherlock, John and Claire headed towards the police tape once again. Sherlock walked on, but Sergeant Donovan stopped John and Claire.

"How'd you get Sherlock to let your girlfriend on the case?" She asked John, her gaze shifting between him and Claire.

"She's not mine, she's his" He said, jerking a thumb in Sherlock's direction.

"Surely you don't mean she's his... girlfriend?" She asked, a small crowd gathering around Donovan, John and Claire, most notably including Anderson and Lestrade.

"I'm sorry, was my implication not strong enough for you?" He said, pulling up the tape and walking under it. Claire attempted to do the same thing, but Donovan stopped her.

"Do you realize you're dating a crazy psychopath?" Donovan said slowly, as if talking to a particularly dense person.

"High-functioning sociopath, Donovan, do catch up" Said Sherlock, who'd wondered back over to see what was holding up John and Claire. He lifted the police tape and Claire ducked under it, and the three walked away from a crowd of shocked investigators.

"That went pretty well" Sherlock said, chuffed to have stunned the crowd, especially Anderson and Donovan.

"The case or getting past Donovan?" Claire asked

"Both" Said Sherlock, almost glowing with happiness.

"It sure wasn't a boring day, now was it?" John said.

"Definitely not." Said Claire "I'd better be off; I've got to get ready for work. It was great solving a crime with you guys, I hope I will be invited to do it again some time."

"It was great having you here. I'll be sure to call you if a good case comes up" Sherlock said

"It was fun" Said John

"I'll catch you both later" Claire said, walking off to try and find a cab

"Claire, wait up!" Sherlock called, and he lightly jogged over to her.

"Yea?" She said. A little awkwardly, Sherlock put his arms around her and gave her a semi-awkward semi-sweet hug. When he let her go, her cheeks were redder than before.

"I'll see you soon" He said.

"Yea" She said softly, her mind swirling. She blinked a few times, waved, and headed off once again in pursuit of a cab. Sherlock turned back around to John, his smiling face quickly turning into a scowl. John felt awkward. Was he supposed to turn his back? Sherlock walked right over to him, but passed straight by him. John turned around to apologise, only to see a guilty looking Donovan, followed by a shocked Anderson and a slightly grinning Lestrade. Sherlock was walking over to them, probably to give them a piece of his mind. John raced to catch up to his friend. He didn't mind a few snide comments, and he believed they were well deserved, but he didn't want his friend getting violent.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock and John arrived home, after having stopped at the grocery store for some supplies for dinner. Their cash was getting pretty low, but food was a necessity, for John anyway. They both ate, more to pass the time than to fill their bellies. John washed up and Sherlock lazed on the couch, appearing bored, but John knew him better than that, and assumed he was going over things in his head. The boredom would come later.

The washing up was dried and put away. John was intrigued to find out what was going through Sherlock's head. He suspected a fair bit was focused on his hug with Clair, but he wanted to know whether the thoughts going through his head about that particular issue was good or bad. He figured he'd ease into that particular conversation.

"So what is Claire's job, anyway?" John asked, taking a seat facing the sofa.

"Bartender. Not a job she particularly loves, but it pays considerably well"

"I see" John was about to ask more, but his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, John, it's Sarah. I wondered if you were free, and wanted to hang out"

"Oh, hi Sarah. Actually, I've had a pretty big day and not much sleep last night. Just solved the murder"  
>"Oh really? Was it easy?"<p>

"It was with Claire on the crew"

"Claire! What was she doing on the case?"  
>"It's a long story; I'll explain it to you another time"<p>

"Not if I call Claire tomorrow" She mumbled.

"True"

"Well, I guess you'd better get some sleep. How about lunch? After work tomorrow?"  
>"That sounds great. I'll see you at work, then"<br>"Yea, see you then. Bye"

"Bye" John said. He closed the phone.

"You brought up a valid point. I'm going to head to bed before the boredom gets to me too much" Sherlock said, avoiding all questions for the rest of the night. "Night John"  
>"Night Sherlock" Both headed towards their bedrooms to sleep off the busy day.<p>

Sherlock was up early the next morning. Lying on the couch, this time clearly due to boredom. What was the world's only Consulting Detective to do without a crime?

John woke later, showered and dressed for work. When he saw Sherlock on the couch, he knew he would need some stimulation. He had an idea.

"Sherlock, I'm going to work, and you look bored out of your brain. Why don't you try and write up this case? You're the one who never forgets important details, after all. It's hard at first, but I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"It's better than shooting more holes in the wall" Sherlock said. Although it was meant in good humor, John had a suspicion that is exactly what would have happened if he hadn't given Sherlock something to do.

A few hours later, John was at work and Sherlock was trying to make his recount less plain, trying to use more emotive words, when his cell went off. At first, he thought maybe it was Lestrade, but when he picked up it was Claire's voice he heard.

"Hello?"  
>"Hi Sherlock, its Claire here"<p>

"Hey Claire, what's up?"

"I just wondered if you were doing anything"

"No, not particularly. You want to meet up?"

"I'd love to. Regents park in thirty minutes?"

"See you there"

"See ya" Sherlock closed his phone and smiled. Maybe it would be an interesting day after all.

Twenty minutes later, Sherlock was walking through Regents Park in search of Claire. She had said thirty minutes, but he figured it wise to start searching now. It took him just a minute to find her.

"Hey Claire" Sherlock said, giving her a non-awkward hug.

"Hey Sherlock" She said, more relaxed to this show of affection.

"How was work?"

"After solving a murder, it was rather boring"

"I might have to pop in on one of your shifts, see if I can't make things more interesting"

"I'd like that. Talking of work, how does it work, being a Consulting Detective?"  
>"When the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me"<p>

"And that's why they aren't that fond of you? Because you do their job for them?"

"Something like that"

Sherlock's hand brushed against Claire's, and he grabbed it. Claire stared down at her hand in his, and then to Sherlock, and then forward again.

"If I'm ever too forward, don't be afraid to stop me. This isn't exactly my area of expertise." He warned

"I will" She promised. She squeezed his hand tighter, to show how she felt holding hands was ok. He squeezed hers in response.

The two enjoyed exploring the park together. Sherlock didn't seem to mind there was no case at the moment, and boredom was the last thing on his mind. He felt differently when he was with Claire than he had felt before. It was a nice kind of different.

It took them longer than it should have to do a full lap of the park, but neither was in a hurry to make it end. Both were disappointed when they reached the end.

"That was really nice. We should do it again sometime" Claire said, when it was undebatable that they had reached the end.

"I agree" Said Sherlock. He leaned in close, so close they could hear each other breathe, and gently pressed his lips on hers. He then pulled away so he could gauge her reactions. She was a little disappointed that he had pulled away so soon, and a tiny bit worried.

"Was that ok?" He asked her, but she couldn't find her voice, so she nodded gently. He leant down once again and pressed his lips on hers, this time wrapping his arms around her waist as he did so. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they stood there, kissing gently in Regents Park, until the familiar buzz of a text came from Sherlock's pocket. Their arms loosened, and they reluctantly drew apart. Sherlock looked at the message on his phone.

**Where are you?**

**JW**

Sherlock quickly texted back;

**Regents Park. Be home soon.**

**SH**

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" Sherlock said

"Sounds good." Claire replied. Sherlock leaned in for one last kiss before they left. He tried to save the moment deep into the hard-drive of his brain. It was hard to break away, and even harder to walk away, but they reluctantly did.

The cab ride was just a blur for Sherlock. He kept replaying the memory in his head, over and over. He paid the taxi driver and exited the car, numbly walking up the steps of 221B Baker Street into his flat to find an intrigued John sitting in the armchair, waiting for him.

"Have you been with Claire?" John asked

"Yea" Sherlock said absently, still in thought.

"I've been meaning to ask how you felt when you hugged her the other day. Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you actually starting to feel some emotions?"

"Emotions, yea" Sherlock said, still in a daze.

"Are you ok?"

"Great"

"Sherlock, how many patches are you wearing?"

"One"

"Sherlock, are you _sure_ you're ok?"

"Ok"  
>"Sherlock!" John yelled, and Sherlock seemed to come out of his daze.<p>

"What were you saying?"

"To begin with, I was asking if you are actually starting to show some emotions" John repeated. Sherlock just laughed.

"More than started, I'm afraid"

"I wouldn't have expected you to feel so strongly about a hug. I didn't realise your human side was so close to the surface."

"You didn't realise it because that isn't how it is" Sherlock said. John had a puzzled expression on his face.

"Would you care to expand on that?"  
>"Not particularly" Sherlock said, grabbing his violin.<p>

"I'll call Claire and ask her myself if you don't tell" John threatened, and Sherlock froze into position.

"You wouldn't"  
>"Try me" John challenged. Sherlock sighed.<p>

"Let's just say, she and I have progressed past the hugging stage." Sherlock said, trying to skip over details. He didn't know what John was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that, as he stood solid as a statue for minute, even when Sherlock waved his hand in front of John's face. Eventually, he filled a glass of water and tossed it over John's face to wake him from his trance.

"I still can't believe it" John said.

"Believe it" Sherlock said bluntly.

"So you do feel emotion, you do have a heart"  
>"So it appears"<p>

"I wasn't expecting that"  
>"Was anybody?" Sherlock said, and the men fell into silence.<p>

"Well, good for you, I guess"

"Yea. You'll have to thank Sarah for me at work tomorrow"

"Will do" John said, and the conversation ended again. Sherlock picked up his violin again, and began to gently pluck the strings. John cooked, and they ate in almost silence, all other topics for discussion now seemed unimportant, so they said nothing.

"I'm going to bed. Night" John said, tired from working and shock. Sherlock nodded, and headed for his own bed. He couldn't help the glowing he felt inside. He eventually concluded his thoughts to a simple summary: It certainly is different, showing emotion.

A/N: Thanks for all the favouriting and following, greatly appreciated. Just thought I'd let you know that the next chapter will take a while (It's a lot harder than I thought to create an imaginative murder), so don't hold you breathe, but when it is made, you can expect a lot of chapters to make up for it. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

It was early morning when a bored Sherlock received a text. He checked his messages, not sure whether he would prefer it to be Lestrade or Claire. He soon figured he would like it to be Lestrade, because then he could invite Claire along, so he was quite happy with what he found;

**Got a case for you, we believe it's related to two other murders. Think we're looking at a serial killer. Can you come down? 24 Granville Road**

**Lestrade**

"John!" Sherlock yelled, knowing John was in his room getting ready for work

"What?" John shouted back

"I'm going on a case!" Sherlock yelled, and quickly texted Claire to see if she was available

**Got a case. Possibly a serial killer. 24 Granville Road. John's got work, and I need an assistant. Can you come?**

**SH**

**I'll meet you there**

**Claire**

Sherlock grabbed his coat and his scarf, glad to be out of his bored stupor. He bid John farewell and left the flat, hailed a taxi and directed it to 24 Granville Road. In about ten minutes, he had arrived to a very busy crime scene. He paid the cabbie and exited, looking around for Claire. Two minutes later, a cab pulled up and Claire hopped out, a little bit of excitement evident in her features. Sherlock went over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, knowing that the gaze of Donovan and Anderson was upon them. The two walked over to Donovan at the tape.

"Hello again freak. Haven't scared away your friend yet?" Donovan questioned

"No I haven't, but I see Anderson hasn't been as kind to you" Sherlock said, and ignoring her shocked face, lifted the tape for Claire and then followed her under.

"Hello Sherlock, thought you'd come. Where's John?" Lestrade asked, coming out of the house

"At work." Sherlock said

"So that's how you earn your cash" Lestrade said absently "Now here's what we've got so far on this killer. There's always one bullet to the head, always at their own home, always alone, and always with an anonymous note."  
>"I want the notes" Sherlock said, heading into the house<p>

"These notes- they don't make any sense" Lestrade explained so Sherlock wouldn't be shocked

"I want them anyway" Sherlock said quickly. The less sense they made, the bigger the secret the killer was hiding. And like all brilliant killers, he left the clues, you just had to see them right.

"Any other similarities, family ties, gender, age..." Claire asked Lestrade

"There were some similarities between the first two victims, but now here's the third one ruining all our strongest theories. There are some weak connections, but it's almost certain that they are random victims." Lestrade said.

"How long since the first and second victims?" Claire said, in an attempt to get as much information as possible, knowing Sherlock might need it later at some ungodly hour when normal people, including Lestrade, were sleeping. She had even pulled out her notepad.

"Three weeks between victim one and two, one week between victim two and three" Lestrade replied. Sherlock had a look of trying to concentrate but finding it hard without having the notes.

"Get Sherlock the notes, then I'll ask some more questions" Claire said, and an eager Sherlock and a slightly stressed Lestrade led the way through the house to the kitchen, where various pieces of evidence were scattered around. Lestrade picked up three plastic evidence sleeves, and after getting Sherlock some gloves, he gave them to him. Sherlock carefully took out the note from the first case. It was typed in a slightly elegant font.

emit yreve reisae steg tI

Eyes stay priority call

Silly crazy doctors small

"We already know what the first line says. 'It gets easier every time' backwards. The rest makes no sense" Lestrade said

"Something about an optometrist?" Claire asked, knowing this was a long shot.

"Nothing suspicious about any of the victims optometrists, and we've checked all the ones in the area" Lestrade replied regretfully. Claire quickly wrote out the letter in her notebook, while Sherlock looked at it from every angle, not looking at the words anymore, searching for a clue beyond the writing. Once he found nothing, he carefully placed it back in the evidence bag and started on the second note.

Tyres stay freaky satin

Sign true mother smitten

"Stay is repeated. Weird how the second letter is 'y' again" Claire noted, already written the details in her book.

"We've pondered over it for hours, unsuccessfully" Lestrade admitted. Sherlock was briefer with his observations this time, anxious for the last letter.

Lye stay pretty cash

Die brew hold smash

"By now we've given up on the notes- and hence have handed them to you, Mr. Holmes" Lestrade said

"Stay, stay, what does it mean?" Sherlock muttered, as if trying to hear some hidden meaning in the word. It appears he no longer cared about Lestrade and his comments.

"I guess I shall ask some more questions" Claire said quietly to Lestrade, hoping to not effect Sherlock's thinking, and the two walked away from Sherlock so he could think in quiet.

"Let me get this straight- there is _nothing_ worth noting from the scene?" Claire asked Lestrade, unbelieving, after almost half an hour of questions. "No shoe prints, no fingerprints, no strand of hair, no marks on the victim?" Claire said in a tone as if she was shouting, but not raising the volume on her voice.

"All evidence belonged to the victim, or someone who the victim's friends or family could confirm had been at the house previous to the murder." Lestrade said, his mood decreasing with every point he had to make about lack of evidence. It had been less notable at the beginning of the day, but after all the questions as to what he knew, it had become quite clear.

"That'll do for questions" Claire said suddenly, although she hadn't faced questions like height, weight, age, hair colour and family of the victims yet. Her sudden stop of questions surprised Lestrade.

"Don't you want to know more about the victims?" Lestrade said, figuring she had forgotten these questions because she hadn't taken notes for a case before.

"I just think you need a break. I'll ask for some more info later if I need to" Claire said, smiled, and walked off to find out if Sherlock needed any help. Although he didn't say it, Lestrade was grateful to be left to his thoughts for a few minutes.

Claire walked over to where Sherlock was standing, to the side of the evidence room. She suspected that he would have had to move so the investigators could reach the evidence, for she doubted he would have moved if he hadn't had to. She stood off to the side, too, close enough for him to notice her somewhere in the back of his mind and yet not so close that she took up any conscious thought. She stood there in silence, knowing he would talk to her when he was finished thinking.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Forgot to mention that this is set after The Great Game. Now you know.

It was almost an hour later when Sherlock came out of his trance. His thinking hadn't helped him understand the notes. Not a single code made any sense. Not forward or backwards.

He needed his violin.

As the two were leaving the crime scene, they passed many zombie-like investigators, much in a similar mood to Lestrade. Even Sherlock noticed. When they reached the police tape, a tired-looking Donovan lifted it without saying a word.

"Is everything all right with you guys?" Claire asked a tired Donovan.

"We ran out of coffee" She said drowsily. Claire nodded her sympathy and stepped under the tape.

Sherlock and Claire left the crime scene without much information, and no more information than that of Lestrade and Anderson. Sherlock was going to look at the bodies tomorrow, and he was in high hopes this would give him some advantage over Lestrade. But he knew that you had to wait for the brilliant killers to make a mistake. Maybe it was too early?

They hailed a cab, and Claire told the cabbie her address, which Sherlock instantly remembered.

"Do you have any ideas?" Sherlock asked her

"No." She answered honestly. "I think you should try and focus on the abnormalities, though, because they..." She was cut off by Sherlock's cell ringing, signalling a call. He gave her an apologetic smile and answered.

"Hello?"  
>"Sherlock. It's Lestrade. There's been another murder."<br>"Where?"

"25 Granville road"  
>"Isn't that..."<br>"Next to the last one, I know. Murderer did a double-shot and killed the lady next door. No one noticed her, she lived alone. Neighbours say she was nearing her 90th birthday"

"We'll be right there" Sherlock said, and ended the call.

"What happened?" Claire asked

"89 year-old next to the last victim was also killed." Sherlock said, unattached to the emotional side of the case.

"And we're going to investigate?"  
>"Of course" Sherlock said, the left side of his mouth twisting up into a grin.<p>

"Can we have a quick stop to the shops first?" Claire said, and received a questioning glance from Sherlock.

"Figure we could get the poor guys some coffee. Not the same without their sly comments" She said, grinning. Sherlock grinned too, and directed the cabbie to the closest shop.

That's how Sherlock and Claire returned to the same spot they had been picked up from, each holding a bundle of plastic bags filled with coffee. It may have been her mind playing tricks, but she could have sworn she saw Donovan's eyes brighten at the very appearance of the coffee packets sticking out of the bag.

"Alright all, we got coffee! Come get your coffee!" Claire yelled, and watched in awe as all the investigators came forward to take the plastic bags away to the van where the coffee was made. Lestrade pulled away from the group towards the two saviours of coffee.

"Thanks. We needed it" He said

"I expect compensation" Claire said, still a little shocked at how much all the coffee had cost. Lestrade nodded, and walked off to rejoin the pack.

"If only I'd learnt that coffee got annoying people off the crime scene years ago..." Sherlock said, and after watching the investigators crowd around the van in satisfaction, the two headed off to the investigation table to find the next note.

.eid elpoep tneconni ,neht litnU .flesym laever lliw I ,ma I ohw tuo erugif uoy nehW

Dye stay tricks talk

Sin crawl son small

Sherlock memorised the letter while Claire noted it in her notebook. Then Sherlock decided to ignore his impulse to sit and ponder, and to instead make use of the investigators' absence and observe the new crime scene.

Sherlock's gaze drifted over the body, he sniffed and inspected every inch, every strand of her grey hair, every fingernail. Eventually, he sighed, and stood up from his crouch.

"Cleaned. Every inch. With a strong chemical, strong smelling, blocks all smells. Blocks all investigations. Bullet wound, but no bullet. Either removed by the investigators or by the killer. Considering the killers previous precautions, I'd say killer. Means we have no leads." He said, not making full sentences in his haste to transfer his information. Claire wrote quickly, not wanting to miss anything. Seconds later, Anderson entered the room.

"Who said you could come in here?" He said angrily.

"The coffee machine" Sherlock said snidely. Anderson was about to reply, but thought better of it in case there was another coffee crisis.

"Did you find anything?" He said instead, trying to be nice

"Sadly no" Sherlock said, sad to be equal to a man he considered so far below him.

"We've seen the note, and we'll keep looking at different possibilities" Claire said. Anderson nodded. "If you find anything, let us know"

"And to you" Anderson replied, but his gaze was on Sherlock when he said it. Claire nodded for him. Sherlock and Claire exited the room, leaving a worn Anderson behind them.

When they stepped outside the house, the sky was dark. The crime scene was alight with a streetlight and the inspectors were somewhat awake. Donovan lifted the tape without comment again, this time in thanks instead of tiredness.

Once again Claire and Sherlock boarded a cab. This time, however, it was Sherlock who had to direct the cabbie to Claire's house. She looked at him, surprised, and then rolled her eyes. Of course he remembered her address. He was Sherlock Holmes.

"I keep feeling like there is some clue beyond the notes. Like the evidence is there, and the notes are decoys." Sherlock commented.

"Don't. The notes have to be the clues. You saw yourself, there are no other clues." Claire said. "Do you want my opinion?"

"Desperately" Sherlock confessed

"I think the killer murdered the second victim because he didn't mention something on the first note. You say that you have to wait for a mistake. Maybe this was his? I mean, he had to have killed one person and gone to the next. For random murders, that's insane. The second note had a backwards message, 'When you figure out who I am, I will reveal myself. Until then, innocent people die'. That was crucial information to him; he needs you to know you're under pressure. He can't leave another note; he can't go back and switch notes, so he's trapped. What does he do? Kill the person next door" Claire said.

"You know, Claire, I think you might be onto something" Sherlock said, the city whizzing by the cab window. "I hope my violin helps"

"I'm sure it will" She said, patting his arm.

"I don't think each letter is another letter, I think there's a message inside the letters. I just don't know what."

"You don't know what _yet_"

"Who says I will?"  
>"Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan, John, me... and the killer"<p>

"Pressure much?"

"Just a bit"

A/N: Slightly shorter chapter, but the next chapter is a pretty crucial turning point. I'm desperate for some reviews, guys, really want to know what you think. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated too, as well as editing. Also want to know if you figured out the code. Are you a master decoder? Next chapter will be really exciting to write, and hopefully, read, so be prepared for a really epic next chapter


	8. Chapter 8

Claire closed the door to her small flat and dropped her keys in the bowl. She opened the fridge and, after an inspection, concluded there was nothing in there she felt like eating. She grabbed some potatoes from the cupboard and started chopping them into 12 pieces. It had been a big day; two murders, five mysterious notes and many, many hours of hard work. Grabbing a pot, she half-filled it with water and put the potatoes in. She headed to the fridge and got out come more ingredients which she began chopping and mixing. How had she managed to become an assistant to the world's only consulting detective? She kept stirring the ingredients. After dinner, she would be heading straight to bed. She glanced at the clock. Almost nine o'clock. She took the potatoes off the stove and added them to the ingredients in her bowl. She grabbed a fork and the bowl and sat down in front of the TV. She turned it on, but there was nothing on that really caught her eye. Eventually, she settled for an old comedy that wasn't really that funny.

When she finally slipped between the covers of her queen bed, she was too exhausted to be relieved. It didn't take her long to fall asleep.

Claire was awoken by a tap at her window. A glance at her alarm clock showed her it was just past three. She opened the curtains to find Sherlock standing there, looking slightly smug. She opened the window so she could talk to him.

"Sherlock, do you know what time it is?" She asked sleepily, but half-heartedly. She knew he didn't care for time, and she didn't really mind to seeing him at the late hour, especially if he had important news.

"Not particularly. I know something much more important" He said. "Could you let me in at the door? I tried knocking, but I couldn't wake you"  
>"Sure, sure" She said, wandering around to the opposite side of the house. She opened the door, and a few seconds later Sherlock came into view. Close up, you could see the bags under his eyes. He'd had a late night, and even if his mind wasn't affected, his body was. He gently kissed her, and then brushed past her into the flat. She closed the door behind him.<p>

"I figured out who's sending the notes" He said proudly.

"And? Who is it?"  
>"Moriarty" He said confidently, although a little fear showed in his eyes. Claire had heard things about him in the papers. She flinched slightly that he was out to get them.<p>

"Are you sure?"  
>"I will be, after I check your notes" He said, his eyes glancing around her flat. It was the first time he had been inside, and she assumed he was deducing and searching at the same time. She reached past him for the coat rack, and removed the small book from her right pocket.<p>

"Here" She said, and he glanced over the notes.

"It's him. Look. When you get every second letter of a word and put them in line, they spell ytrairom. When you reverse these letters, they spell Moriarty."  
>He showed her using the most recent letter.<p>

Dye stalk tricks talk

Sin crawl son small

"The 'm' from small, the 'o' from son, the 'r' from crawl, the 'I' from sin, the 'a' from talk, the 'r' from tricks, the't' from stalk and the 'y' from dye all come together to spell Moriarty!" He declared proudly.

"So now what?" Claire asked uncertainly.

"Now we wait for him to reveal himself like he said he would" Sherlock said. He waited a few seconds, as if expecting him to jump from the shadows right there and then. His excited expression soon faded, slowly turning into a regular expression, then to Sherlock's usual bored expression, until finally an expression Claire had never seen on Sherlock before- exhaustion.

"Sherlock, you should get some sleep" Claire said softly.

"I guess so" He said, his buzz worn off.

"You can stay here if you want" She suggested, and Sherlock nodded. Claire led him through the lounge room to her bedroom, and she opened the door to let him in. He sat on the bed to take off his shoes, and then lifted up the covers to go under. Claire stood at the door awkwardly.

"Do you want me to... go?" She said, gesturing towards the couch in the living room.

"If one of us is taking the couch, it will be me" Sherlock said sternly. Claire concluded from his current position she wasn't going anywhere. Sleepiness returning, she slipped under the sheets, too. Knowing Sherlock was so close, it took her a long time to get back to sleep.

When Sherlock finally woke, he was in a strange room and a strange bed. He wasn't worried though. He remembered why he was here. He looked across at the clock, and jumped up with a start. It was already nine. Brushing down his crinkled shirt, he went out into the lounge room and saw Claire sitting on the couch with a coffee. She had showered and changed already- she had been up a while.

"Morning sleepyhead" She said "Want some coffee?"

"Black, two sugars" He said, and Claire got up to fulfil his request.

"You sleep well?" Claire asked. Sherlock considered this. Well, he certainly wasn't tired anymore.

"Yea, I guess I did. How about you?"

"Not that well. This _incredibly_ hot idiot woke me up in the middle of the night." She said, unable to keep the teasing grin off her face.

"When I find that guy..." Sherlock said, also grinning. He came up behind her and kissed her cheek. "I'd better call Lestrade. And John, now I think of it"

"Good plan" She said, handing him his coffee. He sat down on the couch while he texted, sipping his coffee occasionally. He soon got a text back from John.

**So that's where you were! Don't freak me out like that, thought the killer had got you!**

**The killer we now know to be Moriarty. Really should have seen that coming.**

**John**

And then a few minutes later, one from Lestrade.

**Good work decoding. Stay on high alert, and make sure your assistants are too. After last time with John, we know he likes to take hostages.**

**Greg**

"I guess I had better get back to Baker Street before Moriarty starts capturing everybody. Be careful, alright?" He said to Claire.

"Okay. The spare key is hidden in the flowerpot, should you need it" She said.

"Let's hope I don't need it" Sherlock said. He kissed her gently, and then grabbed his jacket and scarf from off the hook. "I'll be back later to pick you up; you might want to pack some stuff"

"Will do"

"I'll see you soon" He said. Claire nodded. He kissed her again, and then stepped out into the cold morning, firmly shutting the door behind him. After he heard it lock behind him, he walked to the street to hail a cab.

When he arrived back at 221B Baker Street, he found a very interested John waiting for him.

"So... you slept over at her house, huh?" John said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"It was hard enough getting a cab the first time, and I was too tired to stay up for ages trying to get another one" Sherlock explained, and John's face fell.

"So nothing... happened?"  
>"No... What do you mean, happene- No! You think... No, you don't... Do you?"<p>

"I had to ask" John said, shrugging.

"Is that what you do when you go over to Sarah's house?" Sherlock asked, and was shocked to watch John's stature turn fidgety. "_That's_ what you do at her place?" Sherlock asked, incredulous.

"That's what normal people do, Sherlock!" John yelled, mad because of embarrassment more than Sherlock's not knowing. "And it's not like we've just met, or anything. We've known each other for a long time..."

"Wow" Was all Sherlock said, cutting John off.

"Have you eaten anything?" John asked, changing the subject.

"No" Sherlock said, heading off towards the kitchen. He wasn't hungry, but John wouldn't give in until he ate something. He grabbed a piece of bread, some margarine and some peanut paste, and made a sandwich. He ate, trying to avoid thinking about it.

"Oh yea, Claire's staying over while Moriarty is out to get hostages" Sherlock said, just as Mrs. Hudson came into the room.

"He's getting hostages? And you're having this girl of yours staying over?" Mrs. Hudson said worriedly.

"Yes, would that be a problem?" Sherlock asked

"No, I guess not... so this Moriarty is after you again, is he?" Mrs. Hudson said sympathetically.

"Yes, I'd be staying alert if I was you Mrs. Hudson. Don't answer the door without checking who it is, and such." Sherlock warned.

"Am I in danger?" She asked cautiously.

"He's killed a lot of people, Mrs. Hudson. Don't take any chances." Sherlock said. Mrs. Hudson could only nod, before leaving the room and heading down to her own section of the flat. By now, Sherlock had finished his sandwich.

"When are you picking her up?" John asked

"After I change" He said, gesturing to his crinkled outfit. Sherlock quickly bounded up the stairs to do just that.

A/N: Big thanks to Rochellie98 for her review! Hoping for some more reviews so I know your thoughts. The next chapter is already written, had to cut this one in half because it was too long : ) The next one is a tad cheesy, but I'm a tad cheesy myself XD Hope you guys like cheese! lol


	9. Chapter 9

Claire dragged her second bag to the door. She looked at the two bags at the door, and then at the door itself. She wondered how long it would take Sherlock to pick her up. A sudden knock at the very door she had been gazing at answered her thoughts. She pulled it open, happy to see Sherlock again, when she saw who it was at her door. There was nothing unusual about this man. He had sleek black hair and a very expensive suit. But that's not how she knew who he was. It was the gun at his waist, protruding out from under his coat that told her this would be Moriarty. She saw a sleek black car at the curb, and as she watched it she saw a man come out, holding a big black suitcase. He didn't look as commonplace as Moriarty, but he could still be confused for an everyday person. He came up behind Moriarty, and both pushed past her into the house, closing the door firmly behind them. She was pushed into the kitchen, forced into a chair around the dining table.

"Hello Claire" Moriarty said sweetly, as the other man opened the case to reveal some very complex items, small and portable. "I hope you don't mind, but we're going to need you to put this on" He grabbed a small, flat device and flicked a switch on it. He picked up a slightly bulkier item too, and he pressed some buttons on it. He attached the small item on to the back of her shirt. He spoke into the large item, and she could hear it echoing in the machine on her back, softly, almost too soft to hear. He walked a small distance away.

"Say something" He said into the large machine, and it echoed so it was just audible.

"Why should I do what you want me to?" She asked, her voice clearly audible at the other machine Moriarty was holding.

"Because of that" He said, pointing towards a slightly bigger item the other man was holding. The other man lifted the back of her shirt up to place the object on it. She shivered at his touch, and would have jerked away if Moriarty had not chosen to aim the gun at her during this process.

"The bomb is only if you decide to change plans halfway through. Not very clever though, a bit of a bore, to be honest. Do as I say, and I don't need to get another hostage" Moriarty said into his machine, the words' meaning clear even before she could hear the echoed sound through her end of the machine. She was trapped. "Now, you're going to sit in your bedroom and await further instructions." Moriarty's partner closed his case, and was already at the door. Moriarty walked up to the door, locked it from the inside, and slammed it shut behind him and his partner. "Or there's going to be a big boom" Echoed quietly through her machine, and Claire began to gently cry.

Sherlock arrived at Claire's house and hurriedly knocked at her door. No response. He knocked again, harder. Still no response. He knocked hard and fast repeatedly, and when he heard no answer, he called out her name. Nothing. Nervous as to what he would find inside the house, he rummaged around the flowerpot and removed a single silver key. He placed it in the keyhole, and turned it. He opened the door, not slowly like some people would when scared at its contents, but normally, as if he was letting someone out, not letting himself in. He'd seen too many crime scenes to be scared.

He wasn't expecting what he saw. There was no body, which was a plus, he supposed, and there was no blood, either. But there was her white shirt on the back of the sofa, and her jeans lying on the floor and... there, to Sherlock's utter surprise, was her underwear, lying exceptionally close to the (closed) bedroom door. With the previous conversation with John now swirling rapidly around in his head, he slowly, very slowly, inched towards the bedroom door, not sure what he expected to find there.

"Mmhmm... oh Greg..." Claire cried from behind the door. "Oh, Greg, you dirty thing you!" Sherlock, unsure of the correct protocol, fled.

"John!" Sherlock yelled when he reached Baker Street once again. The panic was obvious in his voice.

"What?" John said hurriedly, worried. Sherlock just stood there, not sure what to say. He said all he could.

"Claire" He whispered.

"She... is she ok?" John said, suspecting very well that the answer was no.

"Too bloody alright!" Sherlock shouted, anger steaming up in his veins. John stood back, a little surprised at the sudden outburst.

"She... and the bastard Lestrade..." Sherlock muttered, stomping up the steps into his flat.

"She... and Lestrade?" John repeated dumbly.

"She and Lestrade!" Sherlock roared. John was honestly taken aback. He had never seen Sherlock this mad before. Like, ever.

"What _happened?_" John asked. Sherlock was too mad to speak. He was lying on his couch, knees to his chest, arms gripping onto his legs until his knuckles went white. John didn't know what to do to for Sherlock in this mood. He needed advice. He quickly went down the stairs to see Mrs. Hudson.

"Mrs. Hudson, I need some help" John pleaded.

"What's up dear?" She asked. One look at his face told her it was something bad. "Who's this Moriarty got?" She asked.

"No one; yet, anyway. It's just that it turns out Claire... and Lestrade..."

"Oh my!"

"And I don't know what to do to calm Sherlock down"  
>"Well, maybe if you sent some nasty messages to her, it would cheer him up?"<br>"Mrs. Hudson!" John was dumbfounded at Mrs. Hudson's suggestion. He didn't expect something like that from her.

"She hurt Sherlock, and Sherlock is a very nice man. He helps everybody else, and he doesn't go around with the girls, he doesn't get paid. Sure, he can be a bit of a handful sometimes, but he doesn't deserve what this girl seems to be giving."

"Thanks for the advice Mrs. Hudson." John said, and quickly went up the stairs, back to his flat. There was Sherlock, still in the same position. John flicked out his cell.

"You cheating bitch,..." John said as he typed "You should go to the deepest realm of hell and stay there. What do you think?" He directed the last bit to Sherlock.

"Pitiful" Sherlock said, and opened his hand out, as in asking for the phone. John gave it to him.

"You vicious fucking bitch, you entered a world and you fucked it up so it could match yourself. Glad you managed to find someone as fucked up as yourself to share your shitty world with" Sherlock said, his fingers flying over the keys. "What do you think?"

"A bit vulgar, too be honest..."  
>"Perfect" Sherlock said, pressing the send button and tossing the phone to John with a force so strong John was glad it hadn't hit something. As it was, his hand tingled a little bit.<p>

Meanwhile, alone at her small flat, Claire cried into her pillow so loudly Moriarty had to shout to be heard through the quiet machine on her back.

A/N: Cheesy, right? I probably made Sherlock a bit OOC, and probably even Mrs. Hudson a little bit. Oops! But things will go back to normal in the next chapter. And you'll learn Claire's big secret... O.O


	10. Chapter 10

It took Moriarty a long time to get Claire's attention.

"Okay, sweetie, you did a really good job. And now, to thank you, I'm going to let you go and say hello to Sherlock. Does that sound good?" Moriarty said in his soft and comforting voice that was obviously fake, and yet sounded so true. Claire lifted herself from her bed and headed to the door, covering the top she had had to change into previously with her jacket. She slipped on some shoes and grabbed her wallet. She heard the rain begin outside, and went to grab an umbrella, but the voice on her back stopped her.

"Don't- you'll look more pathetic and sorry when you're wet" Moriarty said, and even though she didn't think this a reasonable excuse, Claire left the umbrella. She headed to the road, and could already feel herself getting wet. It took her awhile to get hail a cab, but was grateful to step inside it and leave the rain outside, although the wet and cold followed her in.

"You alright, love?" The cabbie asked her. His sincerity was heart-warming. She lied and said she was, and the cabbie asked her for an address.

"221B Baker Street" She said, blinking hard to fight the tear that so desperately wanted to fall at the mention of his address. The cabbie just nodded. Claire huddled into her jacket because of the cold, but it was the wettest part of her, excluding her hair, which she was sure looked an absolute mess. She considered not going to Baker Street, letting Moriarty blow her up, when she thought of John, and Sarah, and how they would come next. So she braved on with power she didn't really have, and hence wasn't supporting her all that very much. Then she thought of _him_, and how brave he would be, how he would stay strong. It was _his_ strength that led her to Baker Street. When she left the cab, she paid almost an extra hundred dollars than necessary. The cabbie looked at her, and down to the money.

"You've given me too much" He said politely.

"No, I don't believe I have"

John watched Sherlock mope on the couch. He'd tried Mrs. Hudson, and she hadn't helped all that much, although Sherlock was no longer clutching his legs too tight. He considered the only other girl he knew- Sarah. And then he thought- had she known? He quickly went to his bedroom to call her.

"Hello?" She answered

"Sarah, its John"

"Oh, hi, John, what's up?"

"It's about Sherlock"

"What happened?"

"He found out Claire was... you know... with Lestrade"

"SHE WAS WHAT?" Sarah yelled into the phone, which John quickly took away from his ear. "That's impossible. Absolutely impossible. No way in hell she would have done that. Sherlock should know that. She wouldn't..."

"Well she did"

"No, no, she did not. John, if I tell you something, will you keep it a secret? Claire told me in confidence, but I think this breaks this agreement"

"Yea, sure" He said. And listened. And dropped the phone in shock. He quickly picked it back up again.

"I'll call you right back..." He said, quickly hanging up on her. "SHERLOCK!"

**Minutes beforehand**

Claire walked up to the door, her breathing increased. She knocked gently. She waited, and heard someone come to the door. They looked through the peephole.

"Are you Claire?" The voice said; a girl's voice.

"Yes" Said Claire, her voice rough from crying. The door swung open to reveal an elderly lady... who slapped her right across the face.

"You came to apologise. Don't leave until you get to talk to Sherlock" The voice on her back said, even quieter than usual.

"I came to apologise to Sherlock" Claire said to the lady.

"Well, Sherlock doesn't want to talk to you" She said back.

"I'll talk to the bitch" Sherlock said calmly. Claire flinched at her new name. She slipped through the door and walked up the stairs with the glare of the elderly lady on her back.

Sherlock was visibly upset, his hard-set appearance he normally wore was there, but it was less a blank face than a mask. He was trying to be strong, but he didn't have much strength. Claire remembered how her own courage was based on his, and desperately hoped he wouldn't lose it, because she could only follow what the leader acted.

"Repeat what I say" The voice on her back said, quieter than a whisper. "I'm sorry Sherlock"

"I'm sorry Sherlock" Claire said, following the voice's instructions, but her eyes were expressing a different message. She kept her eyes serious, strong, trying to tell him a message without speaking. He recognised her hard, almost cold, eyes, but he didn't understand them.

"Sorry doesn't cover it" He said icily.

"I could lie to you, Sherlock, but I won't" Said Moriarty

"I could lie to you, Sherlock, but I won't" Claire recited, her eyes still cold. Sherlock could feel his facade breaking, his courage splitting, but her expressionless eyes were like a protective case, not letting anything move, like a cast on a broken leg.

"It's not your fault. It's just that... well, Greg has... _emotions_." The voice again.

"It's not your fault. It's just that...well, Greg has... _emotions_." Claire repeated, her voice almost _too_ thick with emotion, but her eyes still hard.

"I have emotions too" Sherlock said, although his cold words were proving otherwise.

"No you don't" The voice said

"No you don't!" Claire accused.

"I may not be a soppy guy that delivers flowers with stolen poetry on the tags, but I do show emotions. I thought you could see them. That was the whole point of me staying with you. You could see my emotions and know them, and you wouldn't expect anything else. At least I thought. Didn't you see the way I cared about you?" The past tense hurt Claire more than Sherlock knew "Don't you know how much I cared about you? John's the only person I've ever taken to a crime scene, you're the only girl I've ever dated, didn't you see the reactions of everyone when I _hugged_ you? And not even for a particularly long time, or anything. I showed more emotion with you than I have with anyone. Because I didn't think of you like I think of other people. You, I thought, were different. You would be able to know my emotions without me expressing them. But of course I was wrong, because no one can see my reactions from the small things. It always-"

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled, cutting him off. John opened the door so forcefully it bashed against the wall. "Why didn't you tell me Claire's a virgi-!... Oh hi Claire..." John was visibly embarrassed. Sherlock looked at Claire. Her eyes were going wild, looking at John and at Sherlock in a put-the-dot's-together-since-you're-so-good-at-it fashion. Before anyone had a chance to say a word, Moriarty was at the door.

"Come with me" He ordered

And, obediently, John, Claire and Sherlock followed Moriarty out of the flat.

Not because they wanted to. Because of the pretty red fireflies on their chests.

A/N: Okay, so THIS was the cheesy part. Probably too cheesy. Over-cheesy. Cheese explosion. Please review and tell me whether or not you thought it was too cheesy! Thanks to all favourites/subscribers! Any thought of what will happen now with Moriarty is also very welcome, because I'm sort of blank now. Will try and write as much as possible!

Oh, yea, what did you guys think of Claire being a virgin? Big twist, or just a lame swirl? Feedback wanted for future writing!


	11. Chapter 11

All three had the good sense not to alert passersby of their plight, instead casually stepping into the black car. As casually as you can when guns were pointed at you, anyway. The red lights disappeared when they left the apartment, but with Moriarty and his partner armed, it was best to keep walking. When they stepped into the car, the three captives were seated in the back, the partner was driving and Moriarty was in the passenger seat, holding a gun in his hand, aimed at Sherlock, who was seated in the middle. It was silent for a long time.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you" Claire whispered to Sherlock

"I'm sorry I didn't have faith in you" Sherlock whispered back

"I'm sorry I didn't give enough hints"

"I'm sorry I didn't catch on to the ones you gave"

"I'm sorry I made you doubt us"

"I'm sorry I got you into this"

"Aww, how cute. A couple making up" Moriarty said.

"Like you'd know anything about couples, Moriarty" Claire said venomously

"More than you do, it seems, my dear" He said, chuckling at his joke "Didn't tell lover boy you're still a virgin, you scared little girl"

"Oh shut up. At least I have dignity" Claire cussed.

"Who says I don't have dignity?" Moriarty said, straightening his expensive suit to demonstrate.

"The gun in your hand" John muttered quietly, his mood not fight back and rebel but quietly ponder what has been, and what could have been.

"And the fact you've been drinking" Sherlock added, weaker than Claire but more powerful than John.

"And the fact you've got hostages in the back of your car, you ass" Claire proclaimed.

"Would you like a bullet in you? Then shut it!" Moriarty yelled, feeling his power slipping away.

"You wouldn't shoot us, you moron. You need us for something" Claire said.

"I will shoot you if you get out of hand. You're getting mighty close, I do say"

"Does the gun make you feel powerful, Moriarty? Because you're not, you know. Powerful, that is. You're weak. And a right asshole, to boot."

"Shut you pie hole, keep it shut, or I'll put a bullet through you"  
>"Like shit" Claire said. Moriarty cocked the gun, and all went quiet. Deadly quiet.<p>

"We're almost there, boss" The partner said, turning onto a new road. The turn was sharp, and the road was bumpy, and the strong jerk was just enough for Moriarty's finger to press on the trigger...

And then all hell broke loose.

The bullet hit the edge of Clair's shoulder, and she screamed in pain and fear. The blood slowly trickled out of her, and Sherlock started yelling vulgar things at Moriarty that grammatically made no sense, the aim was to insult, not to make sense. John 'woke' from his thoughts, and tried to get to Claire to assess the wounds. Sherlock gently moved Claire closer to John and sat where she had, as John tried to look at the wound. Moriarty didn't look too concerned, almost smug, as he had proved he was, indeed, the boss. Throughout, the partner just kept driving.

"I need something to stop the blood flowing, something to wrap around her arm" John said calmly but loudly to Sherlock, as Claire was still shouting about the pain. Sherlock unties his scarf.

"Will this do?" He asked. John nodded, and Sherlock passed it to him. John tied it around her arm, tight. Claire was sobbing in between shouts, her throat hoarse from the screaming. Her hair still wet from the rain, her clothes soaked, and tears rolling down her face, she looked a mess. Sherlock did his best to calm her, but she wasn't on the same wavelength as them anymore, the pain taking over all her thoughts. Pain and fear.

The car came to an abrupt stop, and the partner exited the car, pulling out his gun. He opened the door below his, where John was, and pointed the gun in John's face. Meanwhile, Moriarty exited the car and stood behind his partner.

"Get out" Moriarty instructed, and John got out, trying to help a crying and shouting Claire out, with the help of Sherlock on her other side. Eventually, all three exited, John and Sherlock keeping Claire upright. She had stopped shouting now, but was still sobbing loudly.

"Get her in here" Moriarty said, pointing to an abandoned warehouse next to where the car was parked. Sherlock had a good look around. The grass was brown and dead, rusted crates and machine parts were scattered along the grass. The warehouse was burnt on one side, the structure still seemed strong, though. The entrance side of the warehouse was covered in multiple signs, including 'wear a helmet'. The inside was dark, the only light coming in from the entrance, which was facing away from the sun, which was beginning to set. It looked to be cluttered with junk from its working days. Moriarty and his partner ushered the three inside.

It was, indeed, dark inside, but also very cold and damp because of the rain they had earlier coming through the holes in the roof, and the sun not being inside to dry it. Another depressing thing for the three victims.

They stood uncomfortably around while Moriarty smirked at them

"Now what?" Sherlock asked

"Now we wait" Moriarty said

"For what?" Sherlock asked.

"To see who gets here first- your friends or my friends" Moriarty smiled slyly.

"And if it's your friends?" Sherlock asked

"Then we'll all get to shoot you together. You've made a lot of enemies, Sherlock. Many of whom will pay large sums of money to shoot you dead."

"And if it's one of my... 'Friends'"

"I'll get to shoot you all by myself." Moriarty said, his smile getting bigger.

"What about John and Claire?" Sherlock asked.

"Claire will probably die because both your friends and my friends will take a while, and John will be scarred for life watching Claire die at his hands and watching you get shot right in front of his eyes, which will undoubtedly lead to him committing suicide." Moriarty said casually, as if he was discussing the weather.

"So all of us will die in the near future, according to your plans?" Sherlock asked, matching Moriarty's tone.

"Yes"  
>"So why should we just sit here?"<br>"So I don't inflict pain on you while you wait" Moriarty smiled, happy that he was the winner.

So they waited. Claire leaned against Sherlock on her good arm, and John sat next to Sherlock on his other side. They watched the sun set through the holes in the building, knowing it could be their last sunset. A little after the twinkling stars and bright moon came up, Claire started to lapse in and out of consciousness. Sherlock held onto her, caressing her face as tears spilt over in his eyes. All the while Moriarty and his assistant watched them from behind, making sure they didn't try anything.

What seemed like weeks, but was less than an hour, there was a rattling outside the warehouse. Moriarty looked to see whose friend this new guest was, while his partner continued to watch the group. Neither John nor Sherlock turned; they were focused on Claire, who was in a brief conscious period, which were getting shorter and shorter. The three said their goodbyes, Claire gently squeezing their hands because she couldn't talk.

There was a gunshot outside. The trio didn't move. Who was shot, they didn't know, but they knew it wasn't them. Seconds later, another shot rang out, closer and louder, echoing off the walls of the building. They heard a heavy 'thump' as a body fell; close enough to be Moriarty's partner. John couldn't hide his curiosity, and turned around. There was a fleet of police officers, Mycroft at the front and John could just make out Greg near the rear.

"We need an ambulance" John said, indicating Claire on the floor. The police officers talked into their walky-talkies, messaging for medical assistance. The scene became a blur after that. Claire was unconscious when the ambulance arrived, and Sherlock silently followed her everywhere he went, with Mycroft following him, and for a while John following him, until Greg took him aside and gave him the famous shock blanket. He sat down with him, and told him to let them go for now, to calm down. But how could John calm down knowing Claire was injured?

Sherlock was even more panicked than John, although he wasn't showing it. He held Claire's hand at all times, hoping for a faint tug of hers that signalled her consciousness. He kept talking to her, in case she could hear him, as they sped through London towards the hospital, with Mycroft next to him at all times. When he arrived at the hospital, he watched as Claire was wheeled into an emergency room where he was unable to follow. Finally Mycroft had a chance to talk to him.

"Don't do that to me again" Mycroft said

"Do what?"  
>"Scare me like that. You're my brother, and I hear that you've gone missing from one of my most trusted spies?"<br>"Who's your spy?" Sherlock asked

"If I told you, he wouldn't be a spy anymore, now would he?"

**Hours Previously**

"Hello?" Lestrade said, answering his home phone.

"Hello, this is Mrs. Hudson. I'm looking for Lestrade"

"Speaking"  
>"What in heaven's name are you doing with that Claire girl? And breaking poor Sherlock's heart! You right jerk, you should be stripped of your badges..."<br>"What are you _talking_ about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Mr. Holmes came back to his flat not twenty minutes ago, madder than he's ever been, cussing over a Miss Claire and a Greg Lestrade having been together, he was cursing quite strongly..."  
>"Would you be able to put him on?" Lestrade said.<p>

"Why would he want to talk to you after you stuffed him around? And all that work he does for you, he does it for free..."

"He could be in grave danger, Mrs. Hudson" Lestrade answered. She harrumphed.

"I'll just go get him" She said grumpily, stomping up the stairs to Sherlock's flat. She opened the door.

"Sherlock? John? Anyone in here?" She said, but the flat was empty. She headed back to the phone.

"I'm sorry, it seems he and John have left. And that Miss Claire too, it seems"

"Thank-you for your information" He said hanging up on her without waiting to hear her reply.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews guys! Keep them coming! Special thanks to shedanceswithherpast for her review : )

Will keep the chapters coming as quickly as possible; have been writing even more now I know you guys are interested! Please keep those reviews coming in! : )


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock stayed by Claire's bedside for almost a week. He stayed all Wednesday night, after having a check-up, more for his own comfort than that of Claire. He didn't sleep, instead watching Claire breathe, his hand still in hers. By Thursday, when John and Sarah came to see Claire, Sherlock looked tragic, bags under his eyes and clothes wet and dirty from the capture. John promised to stay by Claire's bed until Sherlock returned, and eventually convinced him to go back to the flat. When he came back, he looked better, but the bags were still under his eyes. John commanded him to sleep, and too tired to fight, Sherlock moved the chair in the room next to Claire's bed, and slowly began to doze. John and Sarah said their goodbyes, promising they'd be back tomorrow, but neither Claire nor Sherlock heard them.

Thursday night was better than Wednesday night; Sherlock had slept almost all day and was able to stay awake easily. The nurses had begun to learn his name, and trusted he would be able to contact them if Claire needed it. It was at this time that Sherlock remembered Claire's job, and made a note for John that he would need to call her work, in case Sherlock fell asleep before John arrived tomorrow.

Friday was colourful, as people started to hear of Claire's attack and sent flowers and 'get well soon' balloons. Even John and Sarah brought along a bunch of flowers. Sherlock watched as the flowers and balloons came in, and when he fell asleep more flowers and balloons arrived. When Mycroft came to visit him, with balloons in hand, he had brought Sherlock a sandwich. It was the first thing Sherlock had eaten in days, and Mycroft had a quick chat to the hospital staff to make sure it wasn't the last.

Saturday was a good day for Sherlock, the hospital staff now bringing him food with the patients. The food was bland, but it didn't matter because Sherlock couldn't taste it anyway. When John arrived, he insisted Sherlock go home for a while, to wash up. He promised he would stay until he came back. When Sherlock arrived at the flat he quickly washed, and was about to leave when he saw his bed, so invitingly comfortable. He lay down for a second and slept for a tad over three hours. When he woke, he rushed back to the hospital, to find John still there, and that Sarah had arrived. He felt guilty, but John insisted he was glad Sherlock had got some decent rest. The night was lonely and boring, and he spent it reading the multiple cards on the flowers and balloons. He was glad he'd been asleep when Donovan arrived to drop off her gift. He saw a small bunch from Lestrade, a large pile of balloons from Claire's work and single balloons that he deducted to be from her colleagues. There were flowers and chocolates from her friends, whom Sherlock made it his duty to learn by name. Eventually, however, he ended up watching the clock tick over.

Sunday was uneventful, and when John came to relieve Sherlock from his 'post', Sherlock stopped by Claire's place to get her some clothes to change into and some other things she might need when she woke. When he came back to the hospital, he ran into Lestrade, who had wanted to talk to Sherlock. He made sure he was ok, and then left. John helped Sherlock clear out the flowers that had already died, and then Sherlock went to sleep.

Monday was downright boring. No one but John came, and he left as soon as Sherlock returned. The balloons were losing their helium and the flowers were wilting or dead. The chocolates were put aside for when Claire woke up, but they weren't anything to look at. Sherlock found the TV above Claire's bed, and searched around for a remote. He watched the news, but there were no interesting reports. He watched a movie that came on after, but it was indisputably disinteresting. He changed the channel to a child's show, and then changed the channel again to news. He watched it, but again it seemed bland, and most of the stories were repeats. Deflated, Sherlock turned off the TV.

Tuesday was better, as people started to come back for a second check-up. Having forced himself to sleep the previous night, he was able to stay awake to meet some of Claire's friends and colleagues, and have an unfortunate run-in with Donovan. John again came, and let Sherlock to change and wash, but he stayed with Sherlock when he returned, talking about the incident from Wednesday. They talked about Claire, and John said he'd heard from the nurses she should wake up sometime fairly soon. Sherlock was glad to hear this- he missed sleeping on a bed instead of a chair. John stayed for a while, chatting about other, less important things, and eventually left. Sherlock slept after he left, and woke up late that night.

Sherlock was watching the clock. It was something he had been doing a lot of recently. He watched the minutes tick over on the digital clock, and would count the seconds until it changed again. He had become more timely at counting the seconds than, well, clockwork. He watched it at 2:23 am, counted to sixty, and saw the clock tick over to 2:24 am. He started to count again when he felt the hand he held in his squeeze ever so slightly. Sherlock instantly forgot about the clock and turned over to Claire. He felt the gentle tug again, ever so slightly harder than before.

"Hey, Claire. It's Sherlock." He said softly, knowing she would be able to hear him now. "It's almost two-thirty in the morning, so you don't have to worry about it being too bright to open your eyes" He watched her battling with her eyelids, trying to open them. It took her a little while, but eventually her eyes opened, and she looked around the room. "We got Moriarty, he was shot. He's in a cell now" Sherlock said, getting louder until he spoke at his normal volume. Claire nodded her head slightly. Sherlock reached over her for the button to call the nurse. "Just getting the nurse to check you're ok" He explained to Claire.

"Okay" She said gently

"Is anything hurting?" Sherlock asked

"Just my shoulder" She said quietly. Then the nurse came in and asked the exact same question. Sherlock watched as the nurse tested Claire's eyes and movements, watching as slowly Claire began to move more of her body until she was able to sit up by herself.

"Could I have a drink of water?" She asked, and Sherlock was quick to fill a plastic up with water from the nearby tap and give it to her.

"She's doing very well, her injured shoulder didn't affect her left arm, so she should be able to get out of here fairly quickly" The nurse said

"Thank-you" Sherlock said, and she nodded and left.

"How long have you been here? How long have _I_ been here?" Claire asked, looking at the bags under Sherlock's eyes.

"A week. It's Wednesday morning now."

"Has someone contacted work?"

"Yes, they sent flowers, or balloons, or something" Sherlock said. "And some of your friends sent chocolates" He added, indicating the sweets on the other side of her bed.

"Arghh- I feel terrible" She said, running her hand through her dirty hair, and looking down at her clothes. Sherlock pulled out a bag of stuff from his trip to her place.

"I thought you might need some stuff" Sherlock said, and passed her the bag.

"Thank-you Sherlock" She said, rummaging through the bag to see what was in there. She couldn't move too much, because she had a few wires hanging off her. The nurse returned around ten minutes later to take them off, and Claire was free to change and wash.

A/N: Hope you like this chapter! Thanks again to all reviewers! Keep sending them in, I love reading them :)


	13. Chapter 13

Wednesday was the busiest day yet, because as news got out everyone wanted to see Claire. John was the first to find out, when he came to take over for Sherlock, and he was soon telling everyone what happened. The room was almost always full with people, wishing her the best of luck. Claire was able to contact her parents, and they came to see her too. Sherlock tried to down-play his role in her getting injured in the first place when he met them, but it was hard to explain what happened without implying it. Luckily, they had no time for him, and he was able to blend into the background. Her parents stayed for around an hour, until a bunch of Claire's friends came and wanted to see her, and the nurse wouldn't allow that many people in her room at once. Her friends stayed for over two hours, and in this time Sherlock sat in the chair he had dragged to the corner when people started flocking in.

"Who's that guy in the corner" One of her friends, Jess, asked Claire.

"That's Sherlock" She said, a small smile coming to her face involuntarily

"The boyfriend?" Another friend, Fran, asked

"Yea, that's him" Claire said

"He's hot" Jess said, spying on him out of the corner of her eyes

"Stop it!" Claire whisper-yelled, and all her friends giggled.

Sherlock pretended to be reading the paper, which he had picked up earlier, but he was listening to their conversation. He couldn't help grinning when he heard this comment.

By Friday, everyone had come and gone, and Claire was getting ready to be let out. Sherlock had still stayed with her as much as possible, but she had insisted that he go home to sleep. John had been trying to convince him to do just that all week, and was a little pissed that Claire had been able to do it in a day. Sherlock told him it was only because Claire was awake now, but John didn't completely believe it. Still, Sherlock was up at the hospital very early in the morning until very late at night, not wanting to leave Claire's side until the doctors confirmed she was healed, especially when it was always in the back of his mind it was his fault.

Claire was released from hospital late Sunday afternoon, much to Sherlock's joy. He insisted that he stay with her for a week, not wanting her to bump her shoulder and not be able to contact anyone. Claire knew he was over-reacting, but she wouldn't mind the company, and it was hard to say no to Sherlock. Actually, it was quite easy to say no to Sherlock. It was getting him to understand it that was the problem.

When Claire first saw her flat, the memories of the last time she had been here hit her like a tonne of bricks. But with Sherlock behind her, they seemed less effective, and she only flinched slightly at the clothes still scattered on the floor. She quickly picked them up and put them in the washing machine. Sherlock put his suitcase, which he had packed while Claire was in hospital, in Claire's room.

"Would you like a coffee?" She asked him.

"I'll make it" He said, heading towards the kitchen. She sighed lightly- she had actually been looking for something to do. She knew she should be grateful- Sherlock never made coffee for anyone but himself, or so she had heard. The day was slow and monotonous, and if it wasn't for Sherlock to talk to, Claire was sure she would have packed it in and gone to sleep. She knew that having another week without work would be torture... unless...

"Hey, Sherlock, you want to go to the library?" Claire asked

"Not really, books bore me, their weak plots and all..." He said, and then remembered maybe Claire wanted a book "But I'd be happy to come with you" He quickly added. Claire smiled mischievously. Books were all good and well, but she had something she thought Sherlock would enjoy more than a book.

"I've got something I want to show you" She smiled, and a curious Sherlock helped her get her coat on because of her shoulder, even though she could probably manage by herself.

"What is it you want to show me?" Sherlock asked, as the two entered the library.

"You said you're not a big fan of books..." She said.

"Some are ok, but generally far too predictable"

"... so I figured I'd show you something more to your liking" Claire said, as she walked over to the magazine racks. Sherlock looked disdainfully at the magazines. Surely Claire wouldn't expect him to read a mag. She took a glance at Sherlock in her peripheral vision, and saw his expression. She grinned to herself, and picked up a magazine.

"Hmm, this issue of the London Magazine looks good..." She said, opening the mag to hide the huge grin on her face. Sherlock nodded his head, disappointment clear on his face. "But that's not what we came here for, now is it?" She said, putting the book down to reveal her smile. She reached down, below the magazines, to a shelf full of jigsaw puzzles. She bent down to have a closer look, and Sherlock bent down beside her.

"Jigsaw puzzles?" He asked

"You are one for puzzles" She said. Sherlock thought about this. "What do you think of this one?" Claire held up a 1000 piece puzzle of Big Ben. "There's a large amount of sky, and the pattern of the building is fairly similar all the way up, so it should prove at least a small challenge for you"

"I'll try it" He said

"That's all I ask" She said, smiling. She pulled her wallet from her jacket, and walked up to the counter.

"I thought you didn't have to pay at a library?" Sherlock asked.

"You don't, but you need to show your card" She replied, pulling out a library card from her wallet.

"Just this for today?" The librarian at the counter asked, and Claire nodded. The librarian scanned the card and the puzzle, and then handed it to Claire.

"Thankyou" Claire said, and walked away from the counter, Sherlock following. They hailed a cab back to Claire's place.

"Are you a big puzzle fan?" Sherlock asked.

"Major. Have been since I was just a little kid. I always loved puzzles." Claire admitted

"So you've done some hard ones, I assume?" Sherlock asked

"Oh, definitely. The hardest I've ever done was of a white tiger, with black stripes, and only a little brown bamboo leaves to fill the white background. If it wasn't for the letter pattern underneath, I never would have finished it"

"Do they all have letter patterns underneath?"

"No, I've never seen anything like it before. I guess it was too hard without." She shrugged.

"How hard would you consider this one?" He asked

"Fairly easy, it has lots of different patterns and colours, so it will be easy to sort the pieces. Or to pick them out randomly, as I usually do."

They stepped out of the cab and into Claire's house. Sherlock helped Claire with her jacket, and she headed to collect a thick cardboard rectangle from beside a cupboard, hidden by the wall.

"What's that for?" Sherlock asked

"Moving the puzzle" She said, clearing the dining room table and placing the board on top. She opened the puzzle box, and removed a plastic bag. She emptied the bag onto the board, and started flipping the pieces that were the wrong way. "You put the side pieces into a separate pile, because they are easier to do, and they make a frame for you to work the rest off" Claire said, and Sherlock came and helped her flip and sort the pieces. It wasn't much, but it was definitely better than shooting walls.

A/N: Hope you like this next chapter guys! Less crime-fighting in the next few chapters, but more romance blossoming between Sherlock and Claire... and _someone_ has a _very_ special announcement to make...

[Probably not who and what you're thinking right this very second. You'll see ;)]

PS: Sorry for the issue with making this chapter the same as the last- I accidently downloaded the same one! :S Thanks for letting me know :)


	14. Chapter 14

It didn't take them long to flip the pieces, and they also ended up with a pile of edge pieces. Claire was quick to put together pieces, and Sherlock quickly caught on. Sherlock's eye was uncanny, able to see a piece and find where it went almost instantaneously, while Claire took a while longer, and the pieces she tried didn't always fit.

"Do you often put them in the wrong spot?" Sherlock asked

"No, I'm pretty good, unless it's very similar, like white pieces that are almost identical. In pieces with patterns, I almost never make a mistake, because I can follow the pattern through. Even colours that _seem_ to be the same, like a blue sky, there is often shades that I can pick up"

The conversation seemed to end around there. The concentration kicked in, and only thought was needed. Slowly, the bottom section was filled in, because the people and signs were easy to find. The clock base was starting to come together when they ordered take-out. The first parts of the clock were done when it arrived. Half the tower was done by the time they had finished eating. They connected the clock and the tower together, and started searching for pieces of blue with tabs of tower on them. It wasn't until the clock was done that they looked at the time. It was already ten o'clock.

"Well, you've got two options. One, you could pack it in and go to bed, or two you could keep going until twelve at night when it's done" Claire announced.

"I'm concentrating too hard to sleep"

"Then puzzle on" So they did, placing in the darker parts of the sky, and slowly moving up towards the lighter parts. It was more difficult than the clock, but it was still fairly easy, especially for Sherlock with his keen eye. It was 11:30 when they finished.

"I'm guessing that was at least a tiny bit fun" Claire asked

"Just a bit" He grinned.

It was hard for Claire to sleep, knowing that Sherlock was right next to her. She briefly wondered what Sherlock was thinking about before the late hour pulled her under.

Sherlock, too, had trouble falling asleep. He kept thinking about what John had said when he found out Sherlock had stayed over at Claire's. What were Claire's expectations? Was she disappointed at the speed he took things? But she was a virgin too... Needless to say, it took longer than normal for Sherlock to fall asleep.

Sherlock also woke earlier than Claire, his thoughts not letting him have a proper night's sleep. He was rewarded, however, because Claire had snuggled close to him in her sleep. He wasn't used to the surge of emotion he felt when he realised. Claire had a special talent, to make him feel such strong emotions. It was very rare for a person to be able to make him feel any emotion at all, and none so far had been female. That's why he knew Claire was definitely special. Sherlock wrapped his arm around Claire's sleeping figure protectively, and went back to sleep.

Claire woke next, at around seven. She felt Sherlock against her, and was almost a little scared at what his reaction would be if he saw her that close. She went to slip quietly away, when she felt his arm draped over her. Maybe Sherlock didn't mind her as much as she had first suspected.

Claire stayed in Sherlock's arms for another ten minutes, savouring the feel of him, before he woke.

"Morning" He murmured, only just waking up

"Morning" Claire chirped, already awake.

"Sleep well?" Sherlock asked, sleep wearing off fast.

"Pretty well, yea" Claire smiled "And you?"  
>"Very, very well" Sherlock said, a large grin on his face, as he kissed her, his arm around her tightening, pulling her closer.<p>

It was around eight when the two finally got out of bed. They would have stayed there all day, but Claire got hungry, and since Sherlock didn't get hungry, that was sign enough for both of them. It was eight forty-five by the time they had gone through the normal morning routine.

"You should probably check up on John- he's all alone on Baker Street" Claire said

"Is that what normal people do?" Sherlock asked, and Claire laughed

"Pretty much. Grab your coat"

It took them a while to hail a cab, but they eventually reached 221B Baker Street.

"Hello? John?" Sherlock called as he entered the flat. No reply.

"John? You there?" Claire called out. Sherlock ran up to John's bedroom to see if he had slept in.

"John?" He asked, but the room was empty, the bed neatly made. Sherlock quickly pulled out his cell and dialled John's number

"Hello?" John answered

"Hey, John, where are you?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"Baker Street, why?" He asked.

"Where Baker Street?" Sherlock asked

"The flat... You're there, aren't you?"

"Yes" Sherlock said coldly

"I'm at Sarah's" He admitted

"Was Baker Street not accommodating you?"

"It was lonely"

"Sure it was" Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm staying at Sarah's for the week"  
>"Give me a heads up next time, we thought Moriarty had got you"<p>

"Ok... Please tell me you're not coming here."

"I wasn't _going_ to, should I?"  
>"Hell no" John said, and hung up on Sherlock. Sherlock stared down at his cell, a grin on his face.<p>

"You get in contact with him?" Claire asked, entering John's room

"Yea, he's staying at Sarah's for the week"

"I see." Suddenly, Sherlock's phone buzzed, meaning a text.

**Just wanted to check up on you. Could you handle a visitor?**

**Mycroft**

**P.S. No isn't an answer**

"Hey, Claire, how would you like to meet my brother?" Sherlock asked

"That sounds like fun" Claire said, and she and Sherlock went back into the lounge room, and Sherlock sat down on his couch. Claire stared at him, and raised her eyebrow. "Where, exactly, are we meeting your brother?"

"Here" Sherlock said, just as there was a knock at the door. Sherlock didn't look like he was getting up, so Claire opened the door for the visitor.

"Hello, Claire!" The visitor said warmly, walking past her.

"I'm terribly sorry, I don't remember meeting you. You're name is...?" Claire questioned.

"Of course you don't, we've never met. I'm Mycroft Holmes" Mycroft said, shaking her hand.

"A pleasure to meet you" Claire said, noting his firm handshake.

"Hello brother" Sherlock said from the couch

"Hello Sherlock. Where's that good chap John gone off to?" Mycroft said

"I'm sure you know where he is" Sherlock said

"True, but that's no reason not to make small-talk" Mycroft said, smiling. Claire looked between the two of them, and then rolled her eyes.

"Peas from the same pod" She muttered under her breathe.

"Quite so" Mycroft said cheerfully "It's good to see you've recovered, Claire"

"Yes, my shoulder is almost back to normal" She smiled

"You are very lucky to have recovered so quickly" Mycroft said

"Indeed. Would you like a coffee?"

"No, thank you, I will have to be off soon. I just came to warn you."

"Warn me of what?"

"My brother. He isn't exactly the safest person I know" Mycroft said

"Mycroft, I finally find a nice girl and you try to scare her off. Some brother you are" Sherlock said

"I perfectly understand that Sherlock Holmes has enemies, and said enemies may want him, and anyone associated with him, dead. I understand the risk I put myself in by continuing to socialise with him. I choose to ignore these risks, and continue to communicate with Mr. Sherlock Holmes regardless"

"Well well, Miss Debater-of-the-year, I will leave you to it then. But if ever you change your mind, here's my card." He said, handing her a business card "You can be sure the line is safe." He said. "Good to see you again, brother. Take care of her" Mycroft said, and walked out of the flat.

"Yea, _that's_ my brother" Sherlock said

A/N: Big thanks to reviewer shedanceswithherpast for her continual support :)


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Enjoy this particularly interesting chapter XD

Claire and Sherlock had eaten out, neither feeling like cooking or having take-outs two nights in a row. It was a good restaurant, and the food was nice, but nothing pricy. They caught a cab back to Claire's and took of their coats. It wasn't that late, and neither of them were tired, but there was nothing to do, so they decided to have an early night anyway.

Claire lay on the bed, feeling the covers on her back, her feet slightly sore from the heels she had wore that were, admittedly, a little too high for her. But when you stood next to Sherlock, you really _needed_ high heels. Sherlock lay down on the bed next to her.

"You're really beautiful, Claire, do you know that?" He said after a while. She was about to thank him when he kissed her, long and tenderly. She numbly moved closer to him and he wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her towards him. Sherlock's brain was going a mile a minute. He had been considering this all last night, and all today. There was only one way to find Claire's barriers. He gently slid his hand down her torso, and toyed with the bottom of the seam of her pyjama top. Claire pulled away slowly, and Sherlock was disappointed. Even _his_ barriers were weaker than that.

"Do I really have to be that... cautious?" He asked her, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his tone and on his face.

"No. But you have to stop _thinking_ about it" Claire said, a caring expression on her face. "Sherlock, you're renowned for being one of the smartest people in the world. But you need to learn to be able to _stop_ thinking. To follow your instincts."

"But I _am_ following my instincts! Isn't that what attraction is all about?" Sherlock asked.

"How long have you planned what you did?" Claire asked

"I started collecting ideas last night, but..."  
>"And there it is! Acting on instinct means going by what happens to you, <em>when<em> it happens. Not planning to do something! That's what instinct is all about"

"So what I did... _wasn't_ bad? It was just not... _instinctual_ enough?" Sherlock confirmed, still a little confused.

"Of course it wasn't bad" Claire said, kissing Sherlock on the cheek.

"So if I was to do it again now..."

"It would still be pre-planned" Claire pointed out. Sherlock lay there with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Night Sherlock" Claire said, knowing he would be thinking for quite a while yet, and slipping under the covers of the bed.

"Mmh" He said absently. Claire turned off the lamp, and soon fell asleep. Sherlock followed, much, _much_, later.

Claire's cell rang on her bedside table, waking her up. Sherlock had gone to sleep already, but there was still darkness streaming through the open window. She checked caller ID- it was Sarah. The ringing had woken Sherlock too.

"Hello?" Claire said into the cell

"Oh my god, Claire, thank you for picking up" Sarah whispered into her phone

"Sarah, are you alright?" Claire asked

"By alright, I assume you mean is Moriarty or someone here, in which case I'm fine, but in alright as in are you emotionally ok, I'm not alright" Sarah said hurriedly

"What's wrong?" Claire asked

"Nothing, really, oh I don't know! Can you _promise_ me you won't tell Sherlock what I'm about to tell you?"

"Why?"  
>"Because then he'll tell John, or hint it or something..."<p>

"Sure, hang on a sec" Claire said, hopping out of bed and walking out into the lounge, closing the door behind her "Now spill"  
>"Claire..." Sarah's breathing was jagged, as if she had been running, "Claire, I'm pregnant" She blurted out.<p>

"You're WHAT?" Claire shouted into the phone "Oh my god, congratulations!"

"Thanks. Oh god, Claire, what do I do? Do I really want a kid?"

"Of course you do! No offence, but Sarah, you're not getting any younger. This is the perfect opportunity for you!"

"You're right. Thanks Claire. And please, please, _please, _don't tell John. Or Sherlock. I want to tell John myself, and it may take a little while for me to get the guts"

"I understand. Now you go get some sleep. And congratulations, again"

"Thanks. I'll call you when I tell John"  
>"Okay. Talk to you then"<br>"Yea. Bye"

"Bye" Claire held the cell in her hand for a minute before she closed it. She took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom, where Sherlock was waiting for her.

"What was that about? It's one in the morning" Sherlock asked

"It was nothing" Claire said, waving her hand in a gesture of nonchalance.

"You left the room. You're hiding something from me" Sherlock said.

"Yes, I am" Claire said, getting back into the bed

"What are you hiding?" He asked

"I can't tell you"  
>"And why not?"<p>

"Because I can't"

"You do realise I'm going to assume the worst"

"Yep"

"And that doesn't worry you at all?"

"Nope. What worries me is what measures you'll go to so you can find out" Claire said, and saw that Sherlock was staring at her. She quickly rolled over. "And don't try you're tricks on me! Just accept that I can't tell you and move on!"

"But you're hiding it from _me_! So I _have_ to know! Because I _hate_ surprises. You know that right?" He asked

"One, I'm not hiding it from you per sae, and two, I know that now" Claire said.

"So it's not a surprise, and you're not hiding it from me exactly."  
>"Sherlock?"<br>"Yea?"  
>"Sleep!" Claire yelled. It wasn't <em>really<em> her fault. She wasn't a morning person. At least, not a one in the morning person.

"That's a bit harsh" Sherlock said, hurt.

"I'm sorry Sherlock" Claire said, turning to face him, and saw his face searching hers. "Arghh!" She said, turning back around.

"_Please_ tell me" Sherlock whispered into her ear.

"No"

"Pretty please?" He whispered.

"No"  
>"With a cherry on top?"<br>"No" Claire said, getting up out of the bed and grabbing her pillow

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked

"The couch" She said, leaving the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She went to the cupboards for a blanket, and Sherlock came out of the bedroom.

"Claire..."

"What?" Claire raged

"I'm sorry" He said

"How sorry?" Claire asked

"Very, very sorry" He grovelled.

"Then you take the couch" She said, thrusting the pillow and blankets into his arms, and returning to the bedroom, once again slamming the door. Sherlock ignored this obvious sign to stay away and followed her anyway.

"What are you doing? Not that sorry after all?" Claire asked, still fuming.

"Being instinctive" He said, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her roughly.

A/N: Big announcement = Sarah's pregnant :O ~ Did you call it? Please review!


	16. Chapter 16

Claire was terribly tired the next morning. When she finally woke, Sherlock was no longer next to her, but she could hear the TV on in the lounge room. She would have gone back to sleep if her phone hadn't rung, and she would have ignored it if it hadn't been Sarah.

"Hello?" Claire said tiredly

"I told John. And he proposed!" Sarah, said, screaming delightedly at the end.

"Wow, congratulations! I guess you'd better start planning the wedding, then"

"Yes, I need to do it as soon as possible so I don't show too much"

"Of course"

"There's so much t do!"

"Yep"

"Would you be able to come over and help me plan?"

"I'll be there in a bit. I have only just woken up"

"But it's ten in the morning!" Sarah exclaimed

"Yep" Claire said

"Did you and Sherlock... you know..."

"Nope"

"Then why are you so tired?"

"Because I got..." Claire was about to complain about being woken up at one, fighting with Sherlock, and not getting to sleep until four in the morning, but decided against it "Because"

"Is everything ok?" Sarah asked

"Yep" Claire said. She knew she was being a bit mean, but she was too tired to care

"I'll see you soon, then?" Sarah said, ignoring the snideness in Claire's tone because of her own joy.

"Yep"

"Great, see you then"

"See you" Claire said, hanging up. She closed her cell and put it back on the bedside table.

"I thought I heard you talking" Sherlock said, entering the bedroom.

"Hey" Claire said "I can tell you now."

"Well, I don't want to know" Sherlock said confidently

"Yes you do" Claire said

"True, but I'm trying to learn I don't have to know everything"

"You want to learn this."

"No, this is the perfect thing to start on"

"Sherlock, I'm telling you..."

"No, I really don't want to..."

"Sarah's pregnant" Claire said simply, rolling back over

"I'm sorry, what?" Sherlock exclaimed

"And John proposed" Claire added, and Sherlock was left speechless. Well, that was a first.

"You're kidding, right?" Sherlock said eventually

"Nope" Claire said. "And now we've got to go over there and help her plan the wedding"

"I'm not that good at planning weddings" Sherlock said

"You can stay here if you want"

"No, I want to go"

"Then I guess I'd better get up"

Sherlock and Claire arrived at Sarah's place an hour later. Sarah was absolutely glowing, and John didn't look far off himself. Sarah had already made a (long) list of what needed to be done. Claire looked at the list doubtfully.

"Why not have a small wedding?" Claire asked

"A wedding is the most special day in a woman's life. I want to do it right" Sarah answered. Claire just sighed.

As a general rule, Claire wasn't much of a help anyway. Sarah asked her opinion, but usually disregarded it. Over an hour after they arrived, Sherlock's cell buzzed.

**Murder at 13 Knox Street. Are you ready to come back to work?**

**G.L.**

"John, Claire, looks like we've got a crime to solve" Sherlock announced.

"I'm afraid I'll need to keep Claire, Sherlock" Sarah said

"But I _need_ Claire on my team" Sherlock complained.

"I'm sorry, it's completely unavoidable. I need to get this wedding planned"

"But we're going to investigate a _murder_. Isn't that slightly more important?"

"I'm sure you and John can deal with it quite fine. And besides, isn't Claire on injury leave?"

"You guys go, I'll be fine here" Claire said dully. Sherlock regretfully dropped the subject, and he and John left for the crime scene.

It was late when Sherlock arrived at Claire's house. Exhausted, Claire had already gone to bed. Sherlock sleepily crept into the bed next to her. He checked her alarm- it was set for seven. He looked at Claire's sleeping figure. She needed more sleep than that. Sherlock turned off the alarm, and settled into sleep. She would thank him tomorrow.

Claire woke to the ring of her cell. Even without checking caller ID she knew it would be Sarah, telling her to get up early. Wasn't seven early enough to get up? No, now she'd want her to _arrive_ at seven, or some ridiculous time. It wasn't _really_ ridiculous, but to Claire, who had been running on very little sleep, it was insane.

"Hello Sarah" Claire said tiredly

"Don't tell me you're only just getting up." Sarah chastised

"It's before seven!" Claire argued

"It's after eight" Sarah said blankly

"It is?" Claire said, dumbfounded. She looked at her alarm clock. "Shit"

"I'm having big issues with which cake, and I'm going to look at some venues in an hour! Can you pull your finger out?"

"Yea, yea, I'm sorry, I'll be right there." Claire said, hanging up and hopping out of bed. She walked into the lounge room, where Sherlock was making coffee. "You turned off my alarm, didn't you?" Claire asked sternly

"Yes" Sherlock admitted, although there was no guilt in his voice

"Thankyou" She said eventually

"Not a problem" He said, walking over to her and kissing her on the cheek. He then handed her a coffee. "I thought you might be a bit mad with me" He admitted sheepishly

"I see no need. When I tell Sarah, she'll be mad enough for both of us" Claire smiled, sipping her coffee. "So how was the case?"

"It seemed tricky at first, but then I found the hidden basement, and the rest, as they say, is history." Sherlock said, obviously smug. "But I'm sure I wouldn't have stood around thinking for hours beforehand if you had been there"

"You think too highly of me"

"I doubt that. Would you like some breakfast?"

"Toast, thanks, I'll go get ready" Claire headed off into the bedroom. Sherlock looked at himself making toast, and literally shrieked (albeit quietly) as he realised how... _normal_ he was at that moment. He shuddered. He needed a good case to get him back on the scent of crime solving.

When Claire and Sherlock arrived at Sarah's house, a little less than an hour later, Sarah was indeed very flustered. She had a calendar and her diary out on the cupboard, and she was looking from one to the other, checking something. John looked a bit stressed, his hair sticking up at all angles and a coffee in his hands.

"Oh good, you're here. We need to go look at some places for the wedding, and then we have to figure out a date, and we need to organise an engagement party, and..."

"Let's go" Sherlock said, cutting her off. The four hailed a cab and looked at various gardens and parks, trying to figure what place would be the most picturesque.

"If we were to hang fairy lights along here" Claire said, indicating the bushes on the path to the large circle of grass the landowner set out for weddings "And have the wedding as the sun is setting, we can light them up as we leave for the reception"

"Ooh! That sounds so pretty!" Sarah squealed in delight.

"And we could set some rose petals down the aisle, to make a path, and have some white chairs set up for the guests." Claire added

"And we could tie some pink lilies to the chairs" John added. He didn't know much about weddings, but when Sarah said she wanted pink lilies in her bouquet, Claire whispered in his ear that at every possible moment he should tell her to add pink lilies. It worked, because Sarah squealed delightedly at his suggestion.

"Oh yes, that would look so nice! This is definitely the place"

"So can we..." Sherlock said, but Claire nudged him and he shut up. Claire learnt very early on that Sherlock has no time for weddings. She didn't allow herself to dwell on the fact too much- that would only ruin her high morale.

But it was always in the back of her mind.


	17. Chapter 17

After Claire and Sarah had spent hours discussing dates for the engagement party and the wedding, John and Sherlock had spent hours nodding their heads at everything, and Sherlock had been kicked thirteen times under the table by Claire (Not that he was counting, or anything), Sherlock and Claire left Sarah's place and went to Claire's. She would be going back to work tomorrow, so she stayed up later, so she could sleep in later, so she could stay up later tomorrow. It also meant that it was Sherlock's last night at Claire's. This was a fact neither of them liked to think about.

When Claire went to bed, her mind was still swirling with wedding ideas, and when Sherlock held her, she instantly started to think about _Sherlock_ and weddings. She tried to push the thought from her head, but even when she finally fell asleep she was imagining a small beach wedding that she was almost certain would never eventuate.

Sherlock was unable to match Claire's late sleep-in routine, so when he woke at eight, after having gone to sleep at one, he got up. He started packing the stuff he had brought, regretfully filling his suitcase with his small amount of items. He made himself coffee, and sat down while he slowly drank it. Three coffees later, at around nine, Claire walked from the bedroom.

"Morning" Sherlock said cheerfully

"Morning" Claire replied. She saw the suitcase at the door, and her shoulders slumped. Sherlock followed her gaze.

"I thought I'd be prepared" He said

"It's alright, I'm just... I'm going to miss having you here, Sherlock"

"I'll miss being here" He admitted. He walked over to her, and held her in his arms. "But I'll still see you often... very often"

"You better" Claire said, smiling. Sherlock's phone rang in his pocket, but he ignored it. It was good to keep Lestrade waiting anyhow... at least he _hoped_ it was Lestrade, because then he would be needed eventually. Instead, Sherlock leaned in towards Claire and kissed her tenderly. He was bugged again by his phone, this time a text.

"It could be important" Claire whispered. Sherlock regretfully pulled out his phone.

**When I ring again, pick up. Moriarty escaped.**

**G.L.**

"Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit!" Sherlock yelled

"What's wrong?" Claire asked

"Moriarty. He's escaped." Sherlock said. His phone rang and he wasted no time in answering it.

"How did this happen? I thought he was under top security!" Sherlock shouted into the phone.

"He was. But he had contacts. Deadly contacts" Lestrade explained

"So the game begins again" Sherlock muttered into the phone.

"If we find anything even slightly suspicious, we'll let you know."

"You sure as hell better!"

"And we expect you to pay us the same courtesy"

"Fat chance"  
>"We can <em>help<em> you, Sherlock!"

"Just like you helped Moriarty!"

"You've let him get away before, too"  
>"But I didn't have an entire police force at my disposal!"<p>

"Keep us informed. I mean it, Sherlock."

"Give me one good reason why"

"Because we have resources you don't"

"I'll keep you as informed as I can"

"That's the best I'm going to get from you" Lestrade said "Keep an eye on your assistants"

"Will do"

"Keep us informed" Lestrade commanded, and hung up.

"Like hell" Sherlock whispered under his breath. How could the police let this happen!

"Can you give me a quick run-down?" Claire asked

"Moriarty escaped prison, and now he's probably after me, and you, again"

"Great. Just great. How am I supposed to plan a wedding when there's a lunatic after me?"

"That's you biggest problem?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrow

"I did mention there was a lunatic after me" Claire said, shrugging, and Sherlock grinned, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable"

"Look who's talking"

"You've been spending too much time around me"

"Do you want me to stop?"  
>"Hell no" Sherlock said, and Claire laughed.<p>

Claire walked into the bar five minutes before her five o'clock shift. She greeted Sam, her boss, who commented on her recovery, and asked if she had got the flowers she sent. After participating in small talk, she started to set up. She kept glancing around anxiously, though. Sherlock had let her go to work, even though Moriarty had escaped, as long as he could be there while she worked. She did, however, have to set up by herself.

It was at exactly five that Claire opened the doors to the pub, and the first person to walk through the door was Sherlock, looking charming as always in his long coat and scarf. His entrance was noticed by Sam, who looked at him quizzically as he kissed Claire on the cheek. Claire went behind the bar, and Sherlock sat down on a stool facing her.

"You never told me you were bringing your boyfriend to work today" Sam said to Claire

"Must have escaped my mind" Claire said, although she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him in the five minutes she had been setting up

"Care to explain _why_ he's here?"

"Not particularly" Claire admitted.

"But you _are_ going to anyway, right?" Sam said, and Claire sighed

"The guy that shot me escaped prison, so Sherlock's here to look after me"

"No! He escaped?" Sam asked

"Yep" Claire said, going back to her work

"Just your luck that you go out with a guy whose enemy has a gun" Sam said

"I've never been one for good luck" Claire admitted

"Hello? Sitting right here" Sherlock said, waving at Claire

"I have been quite lucky with Sherlock" Claire said

"That's better" Sherlock said, and he turned around to survey the room. Very few people had arrived yet, but it was filling up fast. Sherlock could only hope that Jim Moriarty didn't show his face.

"Hi sweetie" A guy said to Claire, walking towards the bar. Sherlock was about to say something to the man, but Claire spoke first.

"Oh, hi Al! How've you been?"

"Pretty good. But you weren't in last week. Hope you weren't sick or something"

"Arghh, _much_ worse"

"What happened?"

"I got shot"

"No! How did a sweet girl like you get _shot?_"

"For that, you should probably meet my boyfriend, Sherlock" Claire said, directing Al's gaze towards the man sitting next to him. Sherlock was staring at the man, and he looked towards Claire for an explanation.

"Sherlock, this is a friend of mine, Alfred. Alfred, this is Sherlock" Claire introduced them.

"Please, call me Al" Al said, shaking Sherlock's hand. Sherlock politely shook the man's hand, before looking to Claire once again for an explanation.

"Your girl Claire here helped me to stop drinking my life away" Al said, trying to clear up Sherlock's confusion "I used to get drunk every night, and one day she wouldn't serve me any alcohol. Was a real turning point for me"

"A bartender declining a client alcohol?" Sherlock questioned

"That's how I knew I was bad" Al admitted "She told me to get my bum ass off her seats and go get a job. And I did. After my wife divorced me a few years back, I lost everything. I was drinking all the time, and was never at home. When things picked back up, we got back together. This girl here helped me turn my life around" Al said

"You exaggerate" Claire said

"I do not. Now explain to me how on earth _you_ got shot!" Al said. Another customer came up to the bar, asking for a beer. Claire excused herself, and went off to complete his order, leaving Al and Sherlock alone.

"She's a real sweet girl. If you hurt her, I will _personally_ make it my duty to kick your ass" Al said to Sherlock.

"I won't hurt her" Sherlock promised the man, although he had barely met him. "But all the same, no-one kicks my ass"

"Oh really?"

"I've been known to battle with criminal with my bare hands, but a gun is my weapon of choice" Sherlock said. Al looked at him funny.

"Did you shoot her?" He eventually asked.

"No! Good heavens no!" Sherlock proclaimed, and the man next to him relaxed slightly "My archenemy did"

"Archenemy because he shot Claire, right?" Al questioned

"Originally because he tried to kill _me_, but now he's hurt Claire, that too."

"Why in heavens name would anyone want you _dead_?"

"Because I disturb his crime ring" Sherlock said simply. Al just looked at him.

"Are you a cop?" Al eventually asked. Before Sherlock had a chance to reply, Claire rejoined the conversation.

"Sort of, he's a Consulting Detective. The only one in the world" She said

"What's that?" Al asked

"When the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me" Sherlock replied.

"You pick the different ones, don't you?" Al asked Claire, and she laughed.

"Can't get any more different than Sherlock" She agreed.

A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers!


	18. Chapter 18

Sherlock was wary of Al at first, but he soon got to know the man. Although he had a rocky past, the man that Sherlock met was very pleasant. He left long before the closing time at two am to go back to his family. In fact, the only reason he came into the bar was to catch up with Claire, as it turned out, as this was a ritual the two had going. Sherlock had deducted everything the man said to be true, and hence felt no need to feel threatened by him. It was also comforting to know he had known Claire for over two years, meaning he couldn't be connected to Moriarty because Sherlock didn't know Claire then. Despite all these comforting things, there was still one thing on Sherlock mind about Alfred. So he made it his duty to fix up this discomfort... or possible make it stronger.

"Claire?" He asked her, as they exited the pub. Sam had let him stay after she heard why he was there.

"Yea?" She responded

"Were you and Al ever... you know... going out?" Sherlock asked. Even as he said it, he regretted it. So what if they were? Al was happily married to his wife now, and nothing had ever happened because Claire was still a virgin...

"No, we've always been just friends" ...And yet this comment from Claire made Sherlock feel a whole lot better. He felt a bit guilty, but it was overshadowed by relief. Oh well. The world's only Consulting Detective was allowed to be a bit shallow.

It was as they were hailing a cab that a real issue came to place. Where were they going now? Was Sherlock going to stay with Claire at her place, was she to go to his place, was Sherlock to trust Moriarty wouldn't go after her... the last option was quickly dismissed.

"Claire, where would you like to stay tonight?" Sherlock asked.

"You probably want to go home, and I've already kept you at my place long enough. Just let me go home and grab some stuff" 

Claire walked through the doors of 221B Baker Street. She remembered the last time she was here. Then she considered how many similar incidents had occurred in this very room- how many battles with criminals, how many mysteries solved. She observed the bullets in the wall. Probably a lot.

"Moriarty put those holes in Mrs. Hudson's wall?" Claire asked Sherlock. She had learnt Mrs. Hudson's name after the incident.

"No, Sherlock put those in the wall himself. He does that when he's bored" John said, coming out of the kitchen.

"He does, does he?" Claire asked, turning to face Sherlock.

"I only did it once" Sherlock argued.

"You shot the wall?" Claire asked, although not as surprised as most. She'd become familiar with Sherlock.

"The wall had it coming" Sherlock replied, shrugging lightly. Claire rolled her eyes. "Why are you up so late, anyway?" Sherlock asked John

"Sarah's muttering about weddings in her sleep. Like living with it every day isn't enough" John rolled his eyes

"Sarah's staying over?" Claire asked

"Convenient for her, having you in the same house as her" Sherlock said to Claire.

"Just don't let her wake me up, ok?" Claire said, heading off to Sherlock's bedroom "Which one is yours?"

"First one" Sherlock said, and Claire carried her suitcase inside and closed the door behind her.

"Why on earth is Sarah here?" Sherlock asked John

"Because if she's here, and I'm here, and you're here, that's three for four of her wedding planning committee"

"Hey, since when did I join the committee?" Sherlock asked

"Since you follow Claire everywhere now" John said cheekily "Couldn't even let her go to work alone"

"Not now Moriarty's on the loose" Sherlock rebutted

"Moriarty's on the loose!" John yelled

"Didn't you know?"

"Since you're my lifeline to this kind of information, and you haven't told me, then obviously no, I didn't know!" John shouted, frustrated. Sherlock just shrugged.

"Well, now you do"

The next big drama wasn't until the next day, when Claire went to the fridge for milk to put in her cereal. And there, staring back at her was a head. At first, her eyes went wide, and she blinked quite a bit, and of course her heart rate went up, but she quickly calmed down. She stood there for a while, trying to come up with the best snide comment she could for Sherlock. In the end, she gave up, settling for a less-funny comment than what she had first planned because she couldn't think of anything really good.

"You know, Sherlock, if you love eating heads so much, you could just buy a pack of jelly babies" She called out to Sherlock, who was lying, bored, on what he referred to as 'his' couch.

"I don't _eat _the head in the fridge" He called back. He was about to continue, but Claire beat him to it

"Oh, so you only eat the bodies?" She asked, walking into the lounge room

"I'm not a cannibal" He said flatly

"Oh, of _course_ not!" Claire said mockingly.

"I'm not _that_ weird" He said

"And why is the head in the fridge?" She asked

"It's an experimen..."

"Weird" She said, cutting him off. He sighed, and Claire laughed. One-nil to her.

Unfortunately, this was about the only fun Claire got to have that day. It had taken all of Sherlock's effort to not let Sarah wake Claire up, and when she did wake up, Sarah never left her side, asking her questions about invitations and decorations. They were nearly finished planning the engagement party at the current time, which was to be held Sunday, so Sarah had gone back to thinking about the wedding. It wasn't until Claire left for work (with Sherlock in tow) that Sarah finally left her alone.

Saturday was absolutely hectic. Sarah was having a fit getting everything ready, Claire and John were having a fit because Sarah was having a fit, and Sherlock was sitting back watching it all with a grin on his face. To be honest, there wasn't that much to get ready- the party was being held at a bar, all the guests were invited, and everything was set. But of course Sarah found something to fret about.

And after a while, so did Claire.

She walked over to John, and whispered in his ear.

"Why isn't Sarah wearing a ring?"

"I'm getting to it" He said

"Getting to it? The engagement party is tomorrow!"

"And we're already engaged, that doesn't mean she needs a ring right now"

"It kind of does. The whole point of an engagement party is to show off the ring!"

"It is?"

"Yes! Now go and get her a ring, and don't be cheap" Claire commanded John in a whisper

"I'm going, I'm going" He said, grabbing his jacket and wallet. "I'll be back soon" He called to Sarah and Sherlock, and walked out of the flat.

"Where's he going?" Sarah asked Claire

"Hopefully somewhere expensive" Claire muttered

"He's getting the ring?" Sarah asked, her eyes literally _twinkling_ with excitement

"Maybe..." Claire teased, and Sarah squealed delightedly, making Sherlock cover his ears. The time for joy quickly passed, however, and Sarah quickly became flustered with organising an outfit with Claire. Once again, Sherlock rolled his eyes and went back to his thoughts.


	19. Chapter 19

The engagement party was exciting for Sarah, stressful for John, relaxing for Claire and boring for Sherlock. Claire hid in the background with Sherlock, and most people knew enough about Sherlock to steer clear of the, others braved him in order to meet this famous girl he had found. The star of the show, however, was Sarah, who was busy showing everyone she could her new ring. John followed her diligently through the crowd, meeting her friends and family. Sherlock, for his part, didn't try and steal her spotlight, instead sticking to the background. To him, it was just another boring party... until he got a text.

**We've got a case and we think it's connected to Moriarty. Can you come?**

**G.L.**

"Claire, I've got a case." Sherlock told her

"Really? _Now?_"

"I'm afraid so. Can you come?"

"I guess so. Hail a cab, I'll go say goodbye to John and Sarah" Claire instructed, and Sherlock went out the front to follow orders, texting as he went. Claire eventually found John and Sarah surrounded by guests

"Sarah, Sherlock has a case. I'm sorry to have to leave like this..."

"It's ok; I've begun to expect things like this from him. Be careful" Sarah said, and went back to the party. Claire hurried out of the bar and into the cab Sherlock had hailed. Claire watched as the party she had spent so much time helping to organise flew behind her, and although she wouldn't admit it to a soul, she was a little glad.

"So what's the crime about?" Claire asked

"No idea" Sherlock said, as they sped towards the crime scene

"And you hope it will help lead you to Moriarty?"  
>"He likes to leave clues"<p>

"Any letters or codes or messages?"  
>"Lestrade didn't say" Sherlock said, and they left the conversation and settled instead for silence.<p>

When they arrived at the crime scene, there was no tape or investigators. No sign of a crime at all.

"I'll text Lestrade to see if this is the right address" Sherlock said, when the cabbie turned around.

"I think you'd better get out here Mr Holmes" He said low, threateningly. There was a click as a gun was turned off safety mode. Sherlock and Claire quickly scrambled out of the cab, and with the cabbie's gun still on their backs, and the blurry images of snipers in the windows of the 'crime scene', Claire and Sherlock walked towards the flat. Waiting inside its doors was another sniper, and he pushed them towards one of the flats. They stepped inside to see Lestrade tied to a chair, gagged, and a very smug Moriarty standing over him.

"Why is Lestrade here?" Sherlock asked Moriarty

"Such a long list, where do I begin? Well, he's your friend, for one."  
>"Colleague"<p>

"He's with the police, for two"  
>"There are many people with the police"<p>

"He helped put me in prison"

"There was a whole force of people who helped to put you in prison"

"And last, but certainly not least, he works for another enemy of mine"

"Have I been replaced?" Sherlock said, with mock sadness

"I need someone to replace you when I kill you. And he creates just a bit more of a challenge than you do"

"And who would this mysterious man be?"  
>"Mysterious to some, but not to you"<p>

"I have other enemies, just like you, you're going to have to elaborate on that"

"Oh, no, he's one of the 'good' guys" Moriarty teased

"You don't mean... Mycroft?"

"Who else?"

"And why are _we_ here?" He asked, gesturing to Claire

"Because you're a nuisance. I'd love to be exciting, kill you slowly, but I just don't have the time, and you always get away" He sighed. "But at least this time I get to kill you myself" Moriarty laughed.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Sherlock asked

"Oh, I'd like to have a _little_ fun! I'm not _completely_ boring, you know."

"And your plan is?"

"You guys have to decide what order you die in" Moriarty said, waving at Sherlock, Claire and Greg.

"Not very exciting. Pretty normal to be honest" Sherlock complained

"There's an hour gap between each. Enough for mourning" Moriarty said "And your first hour starts now" And the snipers surrounding them forced them into one of the rooms in the flat. They surrounded the room, leaving them trapped. The room itself was empty, white and boring. Moriarty was about to leave the room, when Sherlock called out to him.

"It's still not very evil, Moriarty" Sherlock complained

"It will be when I watch you cry in despair at the loss of your friends. And men, strip Sherlock here of any weapons he may have" Moriarty smirked, and left the room. The snipers around Sherlock quickly took his gun, and satisfied there were no more weapons, let him be.

"So what's the plan?" Claire asked the two men she was hostage with

"What plan?" Lestrade said. Sherlock was concentrating too hard to speak.

"You don't have a plan" Claire said flatly, and shook her head.

"Do _you_ have a plan?" Lestrade asked her

"No, but I'm not a police officer or Consulting Detective" Claire said bluntly, and looked around at all the snipers. "How do these guys sleep at night?" She asked Lestrade

"On the best bed money can buy" Lestrade said.

"How come the good guys never get that kind of cash?" Claire asked

"Because the whole point of being a bad guy is to earn money. The good guys have to give back any money they salvage from the bad guys, and therefore earn less"

"Well that's shit"

"You're telling me. And the good guys have to work when they're told to. They can't work when they feel like it"

"Yea, but at least you know the people you shoot at deserve it"

"That's the only appeal for the good guys" Greg said sadly

"And you're less likely to be backstabbed for power"

"You'll still get backstabbed, just not literally"

"That really sucks" Claire said eventually

"And we die a lot, too" Greg said, gesturing around

"What a life" Claire said sarcastically. Greg merely nodded. Sherlock just sat there, concentrating. Claire came over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he harrumphed at her breaking his concentration. She ignored him, and pressed herself closer to him. Accepting she wasn't giving in, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she quickly put her mouth on his so his small exclamation of surprise was hidden. Because there, in the back pocket of her coat, was a large bulky item that Sherlock recognised to be that of a gun.

"Can you?" He whispered into her ear in between kisses

"Yes" She whispered back. But then all logical thought was dismissed as they kissed each other, now knowing there was one desperate chance for survival.

Half an hour later the three sat in a triangle, trying to figure out what order was most appropriate.

"The whole point of this is to make me suffer. I should definitely go first" Sherlock said. Claire bit her lip but she knew he was right.

"If you're going first, I want second" Claire announced

"And if we're lucky he will let you two go when I'm dead" Sherlock said

"Fat chance, but all the same I can live with being last" Greg said. All formalities had passed by now.

"And we should all stand in a line when Moriarty enters" Sherlock said, nudging Claire with his leg, as if by accident.

"You're right. It would show formation"

"Wouldn't the best formation be a triangle?" Greg asked

"No" Sherlock and Claire said together

"If we stand in a line, it shows we know what order as well" Claire explained

"Ok" Greg said, getting the gist that there may be a plan here. And there was. If Claire was in between Sherlock and Greg she wouldn't be as noticed as she drew her weapon. At least, that was the plan. It was a very rough plan, no doubt, but it _was_ a plan, and that was better than no plan at all.

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, keep sending in :)


	20. Chapter 20

The hour drew along slowly. After they had planned, they decided to reminisce. Greg remembered all the times he had with Scotland Yard, Sherlock remembered his best cases, and Claire remembered her times with Sherlock. In the end, however, this came to an end, and Moriarty entered the room. The three stood in a line, as they had planned, with Sherlock up front to confront Moriarty.

"Who's going first?" Moriarty asked

"That would be me" Sherlock said. Moriarty grinned.

"Sorry, didn't I tell you? You have to go last" Moriarty said, mock innocent.

"Now who?" Sherlock asked the group. He turned to face Claire, trying to encourage her with his eyes. He could see from her eyes she was petrified- but she was doing well to hide it. She tucked her hands casually into her pockets.

"I don't know" She said while taking the gun off safety, trying to cover its noise. It worked, although some of the snipers looked around to see if which one of them had made the noise. This was the perfect opportunity for Claire. She drew the gun from her jacket, and Sherlock ducked to give her clear view as she fired three bullets at Moriarty. Sherlock tripped her and she fell backwards, where Sherlock was able to catch her. The room went loud with gunshots as snipers fired to where Claire had been standing. Some flew towards a completely different target as snipers fired at each other. Of the twenty snipers in the room, only seven remained. Some shot again, and only five remained. The gunshots attracted other snipers outside the room, and they came in too. Snipers were falling everywhere while Sherlock, Claire and Greg scrambled into a corner of the room.

"What's happening?" Claire asked Sherlock in a whisper, not wanting to attract attention

"Double agents, enemies, feuds, it's all coming out. There are some men here that are on our side, believe it or not. There are some people that say they're on our side that are here, but they are actually on Moriarty's side. Now everyone is going crazy, shooting who they think is their opposition."

"And what do we do?" Claire asked.

"Grab a gun" Sherlock said, reaching for one of the snipers and taking his gun, and Greg did the same. Claire already held her original gun in her hand.

"Who do I shoot?" Claire asked

"Hopefully no one" Sherlock said, as he and Greg stood up in front of her, and she was left to scramble up behind them. Sticking close to the walls, the three headed towards the door. Anyone that so much as looked at them was shot. The room was packed full of snipers, and even the rest of the house was full of them. There had to have been fifty in the house. Which seemed like too many snipers for one guy, but when you're rich you do whatever you want. Sherlock had originally wanted to go back and shoot Moriarty in the head a few times, just to make sure he was dead, but with all the commotion he believed he would either be trampled or shot by a double agent. Either way, he didn't have time to think about Moriarty anymore. The three kept close to the wall, heading towards the main door. The formation changed as Greg stayed back towards the snipers and Sherlock tried to open the door, with Claire standing between them feeling dangerously exposed to the bullets that were flying everywhere. Somewhere outside the sounds of sirens were blaring. When Sherlock opened the door, it was confirmed they were outside the flat. Which made sense. The people around the flat surely heard the multiple gunshots. Sherlock, Claire and Greg came out of the house as the police force moved in. Lestrade was quickly recognised, and soon the three were safely away from the flat, behind the police cars. Police were streaming into the house, and the gunfire started to die down. There couldn't have been many snipers left anyway, not with the amount of bullets flying through the air.

"This is the good thing about being the good guy" Lestrade said, jerking his thumb to the police car the three were leaning back against as they sat, exhausted "You've got backup, and they can usually find you because we're who people call" He explained, and Claire just nodded. She kept staring down at the gun in her hands. Sherlock saw where he eyes were focused, and he grabbed the gun away from her, putting it behind him and out of her sight.

"Don't wreck that" She said softly "It's John's"

"And what are you doing with John's gun?" He asked her

"He told me to take it before we left for the engagement party. He told me he takes it whenever he knows you could get called on a case, but as he couldn't come today he gave it to me."

"So John saved us all" Lestrade said

"No. Claire saved us all" Sherlock said

"Sherlock?" Claire said

"Yes?" He replied

"Can I get into trouble for this? Or can I claim self defence? Or what?" She asked

"You won't get into trouble for this" Lestrade said

"Are you sure?" She asked

"Absolutely"

"Even if Mycroft has to give you an entire new identity" Sherlock added

"But then you'd need one too" She said

"Why?" He asked

"Because I doubt anyone will believe there are _two_ girls in the world that can attract the attention of you, Sherlock" She grinned

"You're very right about that" Sherlock said, and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth gently on Claire's.

"Oh yea, have you guys had sex yet?" Lestrade asked in a conversational tone.

"And this is your business because...?" Sherlock asked him

"Well, the guys at work are having a pool, and we're relying on John to let us know when it happens, but we're worried he's going to cheat."

"You're kidding?" Claire asked

"Nope."

"You policemen are despicable" Sherlock said, turning his back to Lestrade.

"John has probably been telling the truth, since he hasn't won or lost yet" Claire said, and Lestrade nodded.

"Fair enough"

"A month ago, I never thought I'd find out what policemen talk about. Now I know, I can't believe it" Claire said

"We're not that weird" Lestrade said

"Do you consider Sherlock a policeman?" Claire asked

"No, I admire his services and..."

"Then I agree you're not that weird. Which is such a shame, because the weird people are my favourite" She said, snuggling into Sherlock "Especially the high-functioning sociopaths"

"Finally _someone_ got it right" Sherlock muttered, and kissed her passionately, ignoring the crime scene, Lestrade, and everything else that filled the busy street.

A/N: This is a slightly short chapter, but I tried to fill it with as much excitement as possible! Trying to make chapter 20 go out with a bang, especially considering I won't be able to write as much now I'm going back to school :( A big thanks to kie1993 for her commitment to my story, and to everyone that added my story to favourites or subscribed. :) Will try and write a new chapter soon!

P.S. - Where would you like the relationship between Sherlock and Claire to lead? I'd be interested in your feedback!


	21. Chapter 21

Claire called in sick at work, explaining to Sam that she hadn't exactly had a boring morning. Sam accepted her claim on one condition- a full detailed report when Claire returned.

When they arrived back at Baker Street, Claire and Sherlock remained vague about their case, and allowed Sarah to excitable recount everything they had missed at the party. When she decided to pack it in, however, John was on them like a hawk.

"What happened?" He asked, desperate for answers

"Well, it was pretty much an all-star cast. There was Lestrade, and like fifty snipers, and Moriarty, you know, all the big names" Claire said casually

"We just had our lives threatened by Moriarty, reminisced about our past because we thought we were going to die, killed Moriarty, watched sniper's die, the usual" Sherlock said, matching Claire's tone

"You killed Moriarty!" John exclaimed at Sherlock

"Nope" Sherlock said

"But you said..." John argued

"I did. You can have your gun back, by the way, knowing it killed the world's one and only Consulting Criminal" Claire said

"_You_ killed _Moriarty?_" John repeated

"Yep" Claire shrugged. John stared open-mouthed at Claire, who for her part had brushed it off considerably well. Sherlock knew she would break down eventually, when she realised what she had done. He had made it his duty to make sure he was there when she did. For now, however, Claire was happy to take the praise for her honourable actions. She energetically recounted the day's events to John, Sherlock adding in details she forgot. It was overall a pleasant evening. Until Sherlock received a text that made his blood run cold.

**I hate getting my hands dirty.**

**Your dear friend;**

**Moriarty**

Nothing remotely interesting happened for almost a week. Sherlock attempted to diffuse his boredom with puzzles and gave Claire a key to Baker Street, Sarah's high wore off as she started to plan for the wedding, John got better at ignoring her, and Claire worked or helped Sherlock with puzzles.

It was Thursday night, and Claire was at work, once again under 24/7 surveillance due to Moriarty's apparent survival. Al was there, as was his usual Thursday routine, and the three were discussing restaurants in the local area.

"I tried that new pizza shop the other day... beyond terrible. Not to mention it took them forever to get the order" Al complained

"Pizza shops usually have that problem" Sherlock agreed

"If someone was to make a decent pizza shop in town, they would be completely bombarded" Claire added

"There's one on the edge of London somewhere, I've forgotten what it's called, but it's the best pizza shop in town. The service is terrible, though, because they don't have enough people to fulfil the orders. They want to expand, but they don't have the cash" Al said

"Hope they do expand, then you can get some decent takeaway around here" Claire said

"But the prices are so high you could practically go out for cheaper" Al said

"True" Sherlock agreed

"I don't know, there aren't many cheap restaurants close by. It's a fair distance, so then you really need to add the cab price on" Claire disagreed

"You don't add cab prices to restaurant costs" Al argued

"You add delivery to takeaway costs" Claire rebutted

"But if you pick up the order yourself, you don't add cab" Sherlock added

"Sometimes you can walk, they're so close" Claire mentioned

"But if you're ordering takeout, you're too lazy to walk" Al argued

"Sometimes you order takeout because you have nothing in the house to cook with" Claire argued

"Then you go out to a restaurant" Sherlock said

"Not if you can't afford it" Claire said glumly

"So that brings us back to restaurants cheaper than takeout" Al concluded

"That's just a theory though- are there actually restaurants cheaper than takeout?" Sherlock asked

"Fast food" Claire mentioned

"That's not really a restaurant" Al argued

"What criteria does a restaurant have?" Claire asked

"A place you can eat" Al said slowly

"You can eat at some fast food places" Claire said

"But at a restaurant you have waiters" Sherlock argued

"I've been to one restaurant that didn't, the waiters were on strike. I took you there when we were going out, Claire, remember?" Al asked. Sherlock chocked on the glass of water he was drinking. "You alright there buddy?"

"Sherlock..." Claire begged, knowing what he was thinking. Admittedly, it was her fault. But she also knew Sherlock would jump to all kinds of conclusions that weren't true. Obviously mad, Sherlock leapt from the bar stool and stormed out of the pub. "Shit"

Half an hour later, Al left the bar to go home. Claire was anxious for her shift to end. She wanted to settle Sherlock's fears, and to know he wasn't out somewhere doing something stupid. Luckily, the very man she was so desperate to see entered through the pub's doors.

"Something strong" He said to Claire as he sat down. Claire tilted her head and looked at him funny.

"What do you mean?" She asked

"You're a bartender. I want something strong" He ordered

"Why on earth would you want that? You can't hold your liquor to save yourself!" Claire argued

"Because my girlfriend is a bitch" He said calmly

"Stop the 'poor me' attitude and I'll get you a water" Claire said sternly

"Well you're a pretty shitty bartender then" Sherlock complained

"Known for it" Claire retorted. Sherlock started to get up from the bar stool. "You get back here, mister!"

"Why should I? You won't serve me any beer!" Sherlock complained, but sat back down all the same

"Because I need to make sure you understand" Claire said nervously

"That you lied to me?" Sherlock asked

"I did that for a reason" Claire argued

"And that reason would be...?" Sherlock asked

"I knew that if you thought Al and I had gone out you would never like him"

"And so what if I don't!"

"He's my friend, Sherlock. I want you to like my friends"

"He's your ex-boy_friend_, not your friend"

"And that is exactly why I never wanted you to find out!" Claire argued. Thankfully, the pub was closing fairly soon, so the place was emptying out

"You never wanted me to know you two had romantic relations...why would that be?"

"Because now you will always hate him!"

"That isn't true"

"You hate him right now, don't you?"  
>"No, I hate <em>you<em> right now"

"You're just mad"

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because you're not exactly the master of emotions!"

"At least I don't hang out with my ex once a week!"

"You don't _have_ any ex's! And besides, I'm perfectly fine with you hanging out with Molly, even though we _both_ know you're _totally_ leading her on so you can use the equipment at Barts!"

"I am not leading her on!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"I am not!"

"You are _so _dense!"

"How am I dense?"  
>"You are leading her on, and you don't even know it!"<p>

"I'm not leading her on!"

"No, of course not. That's why she's going googly-eyed after you everywhere you go"

"Whether or not she is attracted to me is not my fault"

"But you don't have to lead her on!"

"I'm _not!_"

"' Ooh, _please_ let me look at the body'" Claire said in mocking voice

"I was being polite!"

"Sure, fine, whatever you say. But she still gets more compliments in an hour than I do in a day"

"You're jealous of _Molly?_"

"You're jealous of Al!"

"I'm not jealous! I'm nervous of him hanging around you when you used to go out"

"He's _married!_" Claire yelled. By now, Claire had already left the pub and the two were walking towards a busier street for a cab.

"And supposedly, I am too!"

"What!" Claire exploded

"For years, I was married to my work, and then you came along and-"

"Your work is a hobby!"

"My work is a lifestyle"

"You're unbelievable!" Claire raged

"Thankyou"

"You know what? Go back to your 'wife'. Go back to your pathetic life of shooting holes in the wall and relying on John for rent. What you're going to do when he moves out is _beyond_ me, but I don't even care. Go do what you enjoy, and leave me be, because you're nothing but a heartless man who never enjoyed my company anyway!" Claire exploded, storming off, her heels click-clacking on the cement as she walked, leaving Sherlock alone to ponder his actions.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks to reviews, and all advice has been taken into account :) Anything you want to happen, let me know! I use the advice to form ideas to form chapters!


	22. Chapter 22

Claire rummaged through her fridge, searching for something sweet, fattening and delicious. Her hands grasped the bar of chocolate and she closed the fridge and sat down on the couch. Who was the jerk that thought he could push her around? I mean –bite- how could some guy make everyone think he was a god? He wasn't a god! He was just a –bite- regular man! Just a regular jerk! And he –bite- doesn't even have a proper job! His only friend is a –bite- skull! Because he won't accept his only friend is actually his friend! Even after John had –bite- done _everything_ for him! He does his housework, he helps him defeat bad guys, he –bite- pays most of the rent, everything! And what had Claire done for the –bite- jerk? She'd helped him with his case, even though –bite- it was _his_ hobby, she'd gone through life-or-death situations for him, she'd even put up with his –oh damn no more chocolate- arrogant behaviour! For crying out loud, she'd killed a guy for the bastard! She's pulled out a gun and shot a guy! She'd committed murder! On a guy who it turned out wasn't even the super bad guy! Just a... regular... baddy... that should've... gone... to... jail... Claire didn't feel so good anymore. In fact, she felt sick. Very sick. She ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. She hugged her knees to her chest and cried. And she sadly accepted there was only one person in the world that could comfort her right this second. And she doubted he ever wanted to talk to her again. Yet alone at 3:34 in the morning.

Well he could suck it up.

Sad, scared, exhausted, guilty and still not that well, Claire stood on the street with her jacket around her as she attempted to hail a cab. She knew it would be a bit of a challenge this late at night (Ok, early in the morning), but then again some cabbies might have already started? She knew it was a long shot, but she eventually found one who drove her to 221B Baker Street, where she paid the (ridiculous) fare and hopped out. A quick look at her watch told her it was almost four in the morning. She shrugged mentally. She wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock was still up at this hour. She headed towards the door to the flat, and quietly climbed the steps to 221B, where she put her key into the door and let herself in. Locking the door behind her, she looked around the room. It was a mess, as usual, but there wasn't anyone among it. Claire walked over to Sherlock's room and opened the door. She saw Sherlock sleeping peacefully, and almost considered leaving him be, but dismissed it when she remembered pulling the trigger to the gun. She climbed into the bed beside him and snuggled close to him. The tears that were already formed in her eyes came out in gushes, as she sobbed pitifully. He stirred, and woke up considerably fast. His arms were soon around her, rubbing her back as she cried, the tears flowing freely. He didn't say anything. He just held her close, and that was all that she needed then. Eventually, however, she stopped crying enough to speak

"I killed an innocent man, Sherlock" She said between sobs

"He was hardly innocent" Sherlock said

"But he wasn't Moriarty" She cried

"No. But there are many bad people out there who aren't Moriarty"

"But they don't deserve to be shot dead. They deserve to go to prison. Murderers go to prison. Do I belong in prison?" Claire sobbed

"Let's remember he was about to kill us, now shall we? You most certainly don't belong in prison"

"But I killed someone!" She cried

"So have I. So has Lestrade. So has John. So have most people in the army. So have many people in the police force. I'm sure my brother has, too."

"But you're all in a job where you have to!"

"I don't"

"Sure you do! Consulting Detectives do sometimes have to kill people"

"And girlfriends of Consulting Detectives have to kill people too"

"Since when?"  
>"Since Consulting Detectives started getting almost-killed" Sherlock said. Claire nodded, starting to fall asleep. Sherlock wiped under her eyes to dry her tears.<p>

"I'm sorry about Al." Claire said

"We'll talk about it in the morning. For now, you need some sleep."  
>"You avoided saying sorry back" She pointed out sleepily.<p>

"I'm sorry I overreacted" He said, and Claire gave in, letting sleep take her.

Claire woke, still tired, in Sherlock's arms. He was already awake, and watched her as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Morning" He said

"Morning" She replied. Sherlock leaned towards her and gently kissed her out of her slumber. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her head clearing rapidly, only to be fogged once again from a different source. Sherlock did, however, pull away, and Claire's head became focused once more. Sherlock stretched and yawned, and eventually hopped out of bed. He pulled open the curtains to his window, and light flooded the room. Claire blinked a few times, and her eyes adjusted to the bright light. Slowly, she pulled herself out of bed, her clothes wrinkled from sleep. She brushed them down as best she could, but without an iron it was a hopeless cause.

"Would you like breakfast?" He asked her

"Yea" Claire said, and the two headed to the kitchen. Sarah and John were already up, John reading the paper and Sarah looking through a bridal magazine.

"Claire, what do you think of this dress?" Sarah asked, showing her the magazine, and the wedding planning mission began, all other things forgotten in a flourish to complete the assigned goal.

All mentions of Al were forgotten, and with a new serial killer roaming London (Sherlock had confirmed it wasn't Moriarty) and Sarah now fussing over wedding plans, he wasn't thought of again until Thursday, when Claire came into work (Alone- Sherlock was still on the case). He sat down at his usual stool, and the usual conversation ensued. What was unusual, however, was how Claire couldn't stop thinking of Sherlock throughout, and often mentioned him in the conversation.

It was just a few minutes before Al's regular leaving time. The crowd was small, and the orders were few and far between. Claire and Al were finishing up a conversation about how music had changed when he stood up.

"I'd better get going" He said, and Claire exited the bar to say goodbye.

"Good luck getting a cab" Claire said

"Thanks" He said.

"I'll see you next week"

"Yea" Al said. He was about to walk away, when he threw himself at Claire, pulling her head to his, kissing her passionately. Claire pushed him off as best she could, but his grip was hard, and he only let go when he was ready. When he did, however, Claire slapped him across the left cheek.

"What on _earth_ were you _thinking?_!" She yelled at him.

"I've wanted to do that for so long" Al said

"Well you can forget it, Al!" Claire exclaimed

"Who are we kidding, Claire? You've been desperate for a man for ages, and now you're so desperate you're going out with that ridiculous man that gets you shot! You're a sweet girl, Claire, and I've always felt strongly about you. You deserve better"

"You're married!"

"It's on the rocks. Sue wants a divorce"

"I can see why!"

"I've never acted like this before, I swear. I don't want you to have to live with that man for the rest of your life because you couldn't find someone"

"Even if I _did_ want to break up with Sherlock, I would _never_ replace him with _you_!"

"You only think that now because I made one bad action. But we're close, Claire, and you can't deny that."  
>"I'm happy where I am with Sherlock"<p>

"Don't kid yourself, Claire. What on earth do you two have in common?"

And it was that question which made Claire realise that maybe everything Al said was right. The only reason they were still together is because he wanted her on his investigation group. Defeated, she forced Al out of the pub and rested at the bar, realising she had made a big mistake.


	23. Chapter 23

Sherlock lay on his couch, trying to ignore John talking to him. The world was better muted sometimes. Especially when there was thinking to be done.

It was Friday morning, and Sherlock hadn't moved from his spot on the couch since he had returned home last night. Seeing Claire and Al kiss had been a bit too much for him to handle, especially after the serial killer killed another victim before he was caught. John didn't know this, however, and continued his doomed attempts to break into Sherlock's thoughts. Sick of concentrating hard to keep him out, Sherlock quickly stood up, grabbed his jacket and scarf, and walked out of 221B Baker Street, despite multiple questions streaming from John's mouth. Giving up, John trudged back inside the flat as Sherlock headed off around London's busy streets; head full of thoughts that needed sorting.

Claire woke up on her couch, sleepy, disorientated and sore from her rough bed. She looked around and gasped. Surrounding her couch were men in bullet-proof vests with guns aimed at her. Snipers. Although, how there could still be so many snipers left in London after last time, she couldn't begin to imagine.

"So we meet again" Moriarty's voice boomed

"Oh shit"

John was furiously texting Sherlock. He wasn't answering his cell. It seemed he wanted to be left alone. So John did the exact opposite, hoping the annoying buzz from his pocket would eventually drive him mad. He'd already tried calling, but his call was rejected every time. Eventually, however, Sherlock replied to the messages that were bombarding his phone.

**Claire cheated on me. Now stop texting me!**

**S.H.**

"My god!" John exclaimed and Sarah, who was at the table organising the wedding, jumped at him finally speaking.

"What is it?" She asked anxiously

"Claire cheated on Sherlock!"

"I must go and see her!" Sarah cried

"See her! _She_ cheated on _him_, remember?"

"She's my friend, and I'll support her through anything" Sarah said sternly

"What about Sherlock?"

"Well, frankly, he deserved it for being so arrogant and unromantic" Sarah said, grabbing her coat and leaving the flat. Although John was mad at her for taking Claire's side, he had to admit she had a point.

Sarah arrived at Claire's place in minutes, paid the cabbie and hopped out. She knocked on the door, but no one answered. Sarah dug around in the flowerpot for the spare key, grabbed it and unlocked the door. Her arrival was greeted by many guns turning in her reaction.

"You might want to step inside, Sarah" Moriarty coaxed from the lounge room. Petrified, Sarah entered the room. Claire was sitting on her couch awkwardly, and there was a look of sympathy in her eyes. Sarah sat down beside her, and rested against her friend. Claire comforted her as she gently wept in fear.

John arrived at Claire's place ten minutes after Sarah, and, like Sarah, knocked at the door, to no response. Not sure how to get in, John circled the house to a window, and peeped in. Inside, Claire and Sarah were sitting on Claire's couch with snipers all around them and Moriarty standing in the middle of it all. John quickly texted Sherlock, but to no prevail. Knowing that this might be a short time block of opportunity, he took aim at the man who was undoubtedly Moriarty, and shot, using the last bullet in his gun. It sailed through the air, smashing the window and thudding into Moriarty's chest. Some snipers looked around for the attacker; others ran to their bosses' aid. John slinked away quietly, trying to figure out the next part of action.

Sarah was in hysterics after a bullet blew through a window and into Moriarty. She couldn't settle down, even after Claire had tried to comfort her. It was most unsettling for all the snipers, who now looked rather confused at what to do. They couldn't exactly take Moriarty to hospital, he was a criminal, and they couldn't call the police, because they were guilty parties. Instead, they looked at each other and tied up Claire and Sarah so they couldn't escape, before running off themselves in an effort to escape. Sarah and Claire sat there, gagged and tied at wrists and ankles, as they tried to communicate with each other. In an effort to get to Sarah, Claire fell over, and she couldn't stand back up. She rolled heavily onto the floor, with a hard thud, and Sarah attempted to follow her, although with a softer landing. Managing, she squirmed closer to Claire and started to untie her wrists. It took her a while, as her wrists were tied, restricting movement. After three minutes hard work, she untied Claire's hands. Claire untied Sarah's hands, and two minutes later the girls were untying their ankles and removing their gags. Claire, however, left her gag on. When Sarah attempted to untie it for her, Claire gestured for her to not, and signalled her leg. It wasn't in the correct position, and Sarah was quickly checking her leg. It appeared to be broken. John then knocked at the door, and Sarah was quick to open it. John called the ambulance while Sarah looked after Claire, whose jaw was clenched as she bit down on the gag to stop her shouts of pain. Eventually the ambulance arrived, and once again Claire left a crime scene where Moriarty was killed.

It wasn't until Sherlock arrived home to an empty flat that Sherlock checked his texts. Despite Sherlock warning John not to text again, he had ignored Sherlock's request (As usual) and texted anyway. Slightly worried, Sherlock looked at his mobile. An abundance of texts filled his inbox, including ones informing him John had found Moriarty and that Claire was in hospital. Disappointed that he had not been a part of Moriarty's death, Sherlock went to his bedroom to sulk, and he stayed there for hours, although he didn't sleep for most of his time there.

Claire remembered the last time she was in hospital. The blank walls, the bland food and the boring television, nothing she had missed. This time, however, she was able to go home instead of stay in hospital. She had a cast on her leg and a set of very annoying crutches. It took her a while to get used to them. She had never broken her leg as a child, so they were completely new to her. She was grateful that she hadn't had crutched as a child. They were very difficult to manoeuvre, and she relied heavily on Sarah and John to get her to a cab. She arrived at her house once again, and the spare key was once again placed in the flowerpot. She walked into her lounge room, and saw the shards of glass scattered across the floor. She briefly wondered how she would vacuum it up with a broken leg. And she couldn't even hire help- how do you explain a bullet was shot through your window to kill an overlord of illegal activities to a hire maid? She sighed, settling for the less comfortable dining chair instead of sit on the couch again, especially with the glass and the cold breeze coming through the window. Sarah and John followed her example. It was quiet, no one having anything to say. Although no one said anything, they all knew each other was thinking about the missing member. Claire sighed again.

"I'm going to head off to bed. I'll call you in the morning or something" Claire said

"Don't forget" Sarah warned as she grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair

"If you need help, just ask" John added

"I know, I know. Thanks for your help" Claire said, and the couple cleared off, leaving Claire to sit in the lonely flat and wonder why Sherlock was hiding from her.

A/N: Big thanks to rochellie98 for her ideas and to kie1993 for her ongoing support :) Really appreciate it, guys! Once again, if you have any advice, please let me know so I can consider it and let it affect the storyline in my head. Thanks!


	24. Chapter 24

"Do you really think she's cheating on him?" Sarah asked John as they searched for a cab.

"I don't know... she seemed to be waiting for him, but she mightn't know Sherlock caught her." John replied

"I just wish there was some explanation that made her innocent" Sarah said plainly

"And I wish Sherlock paid more rent, but we don't always get what we want"

Claire walked numbly to her bed, crutches making this a difficult feat. She lay down on the bed, and leaned over to cover her leg. She couldn't move much because of the cast, so was left to lie awkwardly on her back even though she liked to sleep on her side. This made sleeping harder than usual, and left her thoughts to easily fight back sleep. She considered her job, the menial task of bartending, and her non-existent hobbies. She considered how she had just broken the window to her flat and how her landowner mightn't like that very much. She considered where she would rather be right now. Ignoring the first suggestion that came to mind- Sherlock's arms- she thought about places in the world. Where would she like to be? Greenland was the first place that came to mind, with the snow opening options to pursue skiing and snowboarding, both hobbies that many loved. And if she didn't like it? Well, she'd come back to London. Simple as that. She had saved up mass amounts of holidays at work; she even had some sick days left despite her needing them so often recently. Finally, Claire concluded that the best way to move her life forward was to go to Greenland. A poorly-structured plan in her head, she accepted sleep and decided to reconsider in the morning.

Morning brought no clarification for Claire. She still felt a need to get away. And although she wouldn't admit to anyone, including herself, she knew in the back of her mind she wanted to get away from Sherlock. Although he wasn't technically married, the more she thought about it, the more she felt like he was. He didn't really care about human relationships, he cared about murderers and criminals and guns and clues. Claire didn't fit into that.

Knowing her thoughts were going of the track, she quickly called Sam to apply for holidays. Sam let her have them, knowing that she would probably spend that time off recovering from some new injury anyway. Claire decided not to mention she had broken her leg. Having finalised that, she pulled out her laptop and ordered tickets for a one-way trip to Greenland. Some people smarter than her would say she was running away from her problems, but she didn't care. And technically, they were wrong. She wasn't running away from her problems. Not at all. She was flying.

Sarah knocked on Claire's door and waited for her to open it. She knew it might take a while, now Claire had her crutches, but she knew she would come. She had been summoned by a text, just a few minutes ago, and she knew that it was an emergency.

**Going to Greenland. Need help packing**

**Claire**

So Sarah waited at Claire's door, and eventually she heard the handle turn and saw the door open to reveal Claire, holding onto her crutches for support.

"Thanks for coming" She said, opening the door wider for Sarah to enter.

"Why in heavens name are you going to Greenland? Who will help me plan the wedding?" Sarah asked as soon as the pair was seated.

"I'm sure that Jess, Fran or Julie would be happy to help" Claire replied

"But I need _you_!" Sarah complained

"And I need a vacation"

"Why are you _really_ leaving?" Sarah asked her suddenly

"Because I need to get away"

"No, I mean _really_" Sarah said, and Claire sighed. You couldn't fool friends.

"I need to get away from Sherlock" Claire admitted

"Because you cheated on him?"  
>"No! What? What are you on about?" Claire asked, frazzled<p>

"Sherlock caught you kissing Al, Claire" Sarah explained

"He _saw_ that? Why didn't he just say so! Al made a move, yea, but I rejected it!"

"You did?"  
>"I did! I didn't know you doubted me like that" Claire said sadly<p>

"It's just that it made so much sense for you to want to find someone other than Sherlock" Sarah explained "I mean, he isn't exactly kind and caring, he's constantly getting you injured and you two don't have that much in common"

"I know. That's why I'm leaving" Claire admitted

"I'm going to miss you" Sarah said, and the two girls descended into silence.

Sarah arrived home hours later after sorting through Claire's stuff and helping her pack. She wasn't taking much. Then they looked online for a nice place for Claire to go when she arrived. They even looked at pubs where she might be able to get a job. Despite the excitement this should be causing, neither of the girls felt much enthusiasm. Sarah returned home dreary, wishing she could stop her friend's plan, and at the same time knowing she couldn't.

One look at Sarah when she entered 221B Baker Street was enough for John to know something was wrong.

"Are you alright?" He asked her gently

"Sort of. I've got good and bad news" She answered

"Good news first"

"Claire didn't cheat on Sherlock"

"Well that's great! We should tell Sherlock! But what's the bad news?"

"Claire is leaving for Greenland in a couple of days"

"What? Why?"  
>"Because she needs to get away"<p>

"From what? Moriarty is definitely dead this time... I think"

"From Sherlock"

"What about me?" Sherlock said, as he walked through the door into the flat

"Nothing" Sarah said, waving her hand in non-chalance

"Don't lie to me" Sherlock commanded

"Claire wasn't cheating on you" John said

"She wasn't?" He repeated dumbly, even though he was usually above such pathetic questions.

"And she's moving to Greenland" Sarah finished.

"Why?" Sherlock asked

"To get away" Sarah said

"From what?" Sherlock asked  
>"From London" Sarah said, at the same time John said "From work". And then Sherlock remembered what he had heard when he entered the room. '<em>From Sherlock<em>'.

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, it seems everyone is desperate for Sherlock to win back Claire's heart! What extremely romantic and cheesy way will he come up with?


	25. Chapter 25

"Why does she want to run away from me?" Sherlock asked the couple

"Because...err..." John said, unable to figure out an ending that wouldn't offend Sherlock.

"Because you're a jerk who only cares about your job and your own feelings" Sarah blurted out eventually. John glared at her. "Oh please, we'd end up telling him eventually anyway"

"Well obviously" Sherlock said "But I thought she already knew that?"

"She does." John said flatly

"She doesn't think you care about her at _all_, Sherlock! And to be honest, neither do I" Sarah said

"Why would you think that?" Sherlock asked

"Because the only time you talk to her is for a case or to protect her from Moriarty!" Sarah exclaimed

"She has a point. The only reason you took Claire on a second date is because I told you it might help you clear your head for a case" John added

"But I took her on a date to Regent Park, remember?" Sherlock argued

"You haven't taken her on a date since then?" John said, shocked.

"How long ago was that?" Sarah asked

"A month or so" Sherlock answered

"A _month_! Sherlock, how could you!" Sarah shouted

"I still met with her since then, obviously" Sherlock said

"Because of your job! Oh Sherlock, what did you do to my poor friend?" Sarah chastised him

"Why are you guys so up about this?" Sherlock asked

"Because now, you're asking why the best thing in your life is walking away" John said, sharp and to the point.

"Arghh, relationships are so _hard_!" Sherlock complained, sitting down on his couch

"Just to you, Sherlock. Just to you" John said

Sherlock spent Saturday thinking about Claire. Thinking about what John and Sarah had said (And were still, to his utter annoyance, saying). Claire spent Saturday packing her bags with a few more items and saying goodbye to friends. Her flight was booked for Monday morning, but she was already prepared to leave. It was hard to say goodbye to her friends, but it was bearable. What would be unbearable, however, would be saying goodbye to Sherlock. She still didn't know how to go about it. Sherlock had heard she was going away by now, and was often calling her, but she didn't have the heart to pick up. What would she tell him? How much did he already know? It wasn't worth it. Instead, she hid away. She didn't have to hide for long. Just two days. Two long days.

Sherlock was researching Google for advice with Claire and absently listening to the radio that Sarah had turned on. Sarah herself was sitting in a chair with a large pile of folders, papers and magazines for the wedding, a mobile in hand as she called companies. Sherlock listened as the last bar of a song ended and a new song took its place.

'_I wasn't perfect; I've done a lot of stupid things. Still no angel. I wasn't looking for forgiveness, I wasn't laid up on by my pride. Shocked by her attention._

_Did someone sign me up for love? I didn't want it, but now I can't live without it._

_She changed my life, she cleaned me up. She found my heart, like only a woman can. She pulls me up, when she knows I'm sad. She knows her man, like only a woman can.' _Sherlock started singing along absently, still typing. Sarah's head looked up from her work, and turned to look at Sherlock.

"I never knew you could sing" She said

"Neither did I" Admitted Sherlock; his head suddenly filled with a crazy idea. The song on the radio finished, and Sherlock looked it up on Google, and then found it. He played it, the words filling the room once again. They started to mess with the words on the radio, so he turned the radio off. Sarah looked at him weirdly, but then went back to her work. Sherlock started searching for the lyrics, which he printed, the music still playing on the radio. He grabbed a pen off the desk and started scribbling on the lyrics he had just printed out. Sarah again looked up from her work to stare at him.

"What are you doing?" She asked after a while

"Editing" he said

"Editing what?"  
>"The lyrics from the song"<p>

"Ok...err... why?"

"I've got a plan" He said

"A plan for what?" She asked. Sherlock put his pen down and rolled his eyes  
>"People are <em>so<em> dense sometimes! _Obviously_ to get Claire back" Sherlock picked up his pen once more and continued editing the lyrics.

"You're going to get Claire back?" Sarah asked excitedly

"Stupid question" Sherlock said absently, and Sarah squealed happily.

Claire was absolutely terrified. She was waiting for her plane on Monday morning, an hour and a half before it was due to take off. John and Sarah were coming to see her off, and the twists in the pit of her stomach knew Sherlock would be too. Or at least she hoped he was. Did she hope he was? Wouldn't it be better if he didn't come? Or would that be bad? Claire's head was in tangles, not sure what she wanted. But that was why she was leaving in the first place. That was the one thing she had no questions about. A minimum of three months away at Greenland; finally an opportunity to be free of these very questions that were whirring around her head. A well-earned holiday where (she hoped) no criminals would follow. A clean slate. But there was certainly something in her heart that wanted her to stay. Beyond her friends and Sarah's wedding, there was the desperate hope that Sherlock did, in fact, have emotions, and that those emotions did feel something for her. But it was dreams like that wasted one's life. And Claire wasn't about to let her life be wasted. Not yet. And that's why Greenland was the best option.

At least, that's what Claire had kidded herself into thinking. The truth was she couldn't handle being in the same country as Sherlock without him loving (or even liking, just a little bit) her. And it was with this in her heart that she waited for her plane.

A/N: Sorry about the shorter chapters guys, although I'm sure it helps you when you're trying to read it all :P Hoping to publish another chapter today, I'll see how it goes :) Once again, thanks to all reviewers!


	26. Chapter 26

Claire was sitting on a bench as she waited for Sarah and John. Her mobile buzzed, and she checked it.

**At the airport. Where are you?  
>Sarah<strong>

**Turn left when you come in and I'll keep an eye out for you**

**Claire**

Claire looked around for her friends, mostly watching the main entrance. They didn't show up for a while, and she considered heading over to the information desk to get a call out for them. She kept waiting, and eventually she stood up to head towards the information desk. But there, standing at the very desk, was Sherlock, talking to the lady at the desk and handing her something Claire couldn't see. She sat back down on her bench seat and ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't see her. She looked up while keeping her head down, only to see him pointing her out to the lady at the information desk. Failing at hiding, she lifted her head. What if he wanted to come with her? What if he decided to fly away with her? How could she tell him she wanted to go alone? Did she want to go alone? Did the fact that he wanted to come with her mean that maybe he did like her after all? Was he even asking for tickets?

She watched as he walked away from the desk over to John and Sarah, who she hadn't noticed before. He engaged in a discussion with them, chatting about something. They started to walk off, and a cluster of people walked in front of Claire, blocking her view. When they passed, Claire could no longer find Sarah, John or Sherlock among the crowd. Deflated, Claire sat back down. There was a slight screech in the sound system, and the first sounds of music filled the airport. Claire recognised the song- Brian McFadden's _Like Only a Woman Can_.But the lyrics were different. They had been changed.

And it most certainly wasn't Brian McFadden singing. It was none other than Sherlock Holmes.

"_I'm not perfect; I've done a lot of stupid things. I'm no angel. Now I'm looking for forgiveness. I was too laid up on my pride. Shocked by your attention._

_Did someone sign me up for love? I didn't want it; but now I can't live without it._

_You changed my life, you cleaned me up. You found my heart like only a true love can. You pull me up when you know I'm sad. You know this man; like only a true love can." _ The entire airport had turned their attention to the man with the microphone, but his eyes were only on one person. His eyes were on Claire. Claire's eyes were on Sherlock, she thought, but with the tears welling up in them it was hard to tell exactly what they were seeing. It was easier, however, when he walked up to her, and stood right in front of her.

"_You're kinda perfect. You're kinda everything I'm not. Yes you're an angel. And it's amazing how you're patient, even more at times I'm not. You're my conscience._

_Who decided I'd be yours? I want to hate them, 'cause now I can't live without you._

_You changed my life, you cleaned me up. You found my heart like only a true love can. You pull me up when you know I'm sad. You know this man; like only a true love can._

_Like only a true love can" _The song was cut short, but on a bar in which it wasn't obvious unless you knew the song. Turning off the microphone and dropping it to the floor, Sherlock leaned towards Claire and kissed her, holding her head in his hands. The large audience at the airport clapped and cheered, in part for the kiss and in part for the song. But that didn't matter to Claire or Sherlock, who were happy to ignore everyone else in the room. John turned towards Sarah, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. He wasn't the only one who considered it romantic. Many couples throughout the crowd were engaged in lip-lock, others still cheering, some already returning to what they were doing before. It had, however, been a memorable experience for them all.

Sherlock, Claire, John and Sarah climbed into a cab and gave it directions to 221B Baker Street. Claire had thrown away her ticket to Greenland, now able accept that she had never wanted to go. Plus, it was hard to refuse Sherlock when he was kissing her so tantalisingly.

As the group drove through London, Claire looked out the windows at the city she had wanted to leave. How silly was she to think she would be able to live without it? She turned to Sherlock, sitting in the seat next to her. And how had she been able to believe that she could forget Sherlock? A very crazy person indeed.

The group stepped into the flat they were so familiar with, sitting down casually on the chairs.

"I still don't understand something" John admitted "How come Sherlock thought Claire was cheating on him with Al?"

"How was I wrong?" Sherlock asked Claire. Three pairs of eyes were staring at her.

"All made a move on her and she rejected the ass" Sarah answered for her, taking the extremely harsh focus off Claire.

"Why Greenland?" Sherlock asked

"I wanted to ski and snowboard and stuff. That way I'd always have something to do if I was bored"

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" Sherlock asked

"Because I didn't want to tell you how I felt." Claire answered honestly. Sherlock nodded

"Why did you pick that song?" Claire asked Sherlock

"It came on the radio and it reminded me of you" Sherlock replied

"How often are you going to take her on a date?" Sarah asked Sherlock

"Once a fortnight?" Sherlock asked

"Wrong" Sarah said

"Once a week?" Sherlock asked

"Twice a week" Sarah commanded

"Once if there is a case?"  
>"Three times if there isn't a case"<p>

"Come on!" Sherlock complained

"Claire's right there, you know" John said

"It's alright" Claire said, leaning against Sherlock "I understand he isn't normally very clear with his emotions"

"See. That's why I like this girl"

Sherlock was embarrassed to find his little performance on TV that night. Sherlock and Claire were seated on the couch while John and Sarah were lounging in other chairs. All stood up when the news on TV playing in the background started to play the song Sherlock had been singing earlier in the morning. Footage from multiple mobile phones was displayed. Luckily, Sherlock hadn't been identified. The reporter was saying how this romantic display had caused a bit of love in the air, showing footage of multiple couples in the crowd kissing, including, to their great embarrassment, John and Sarah. To Claire, however, it just made her feel even luckier.


	27. Chapter 27

Claire slipped under the covers of Sherlock's bed and cuddled closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He leaned towards her and kissed her gently. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer, keeping him near. The kiss became more passionate, needier. Sherlock's hand slid down Claire's torso and under her pyjama top. For once, Claire didn't try to stop him. He carefully lifted the top over her head, instincts he had long forgotten forcing him forward. Claire hungrily removed Sherlock's gray top, and he pulled her closer to him, kissing her forcefully. Claire started to remove Sherlock's pyjama pants, but he stopped her.

"I haven't got any protection" He said, although his warning sounded weak even to his own ears.

"Thanks god for the morning after pill" Claire replied, her breathing heavy. She once again pulled at his pants, and all logical thinking ended.

When Claire awoke the next morning, she could feel Sherlock's naked body underneath her. Lifting her head slowly, she looked into his eyes that were already staring into hers.

"Yesterday was the best day of my life" Claire stated

"It definitely scored pretty high in my books too" Sherlock admitted

"What time is it?"

"Err..." Sherlock twisted to look at the clock on his bedside table "Ten thirty"

"You're kidding?"  
>"Nope"<p>

"We'd better get up then"  
>"Guess so" Sherlock said, although he didn't move<p>

"Sherlock" Claire complained. He gave her a pout. "It's ten thirty!" She tried again, but the pout stayed on his face, and his arm still stayed around her, trapping her. Giving up on her useless attempts, she kissed him gently. He held her closer, and lengthened the kiss. They kissed for a while, until a very important thing popped back into Claire's mind.

"I need to go shopping" She said gently

"Hmm?" Sherlock asked, confused. Last time he checked, they had more than enough food.

"I need to go to the chemist" Claire clarified, and Sherlock, regretfully, broke his grasp on her. Slowly, Claire got up. She rummaged around in her suitcase and headed for the bathroom, clothes and toiletries in hand. Sherlock lay on the bed, lost in thought, until an idea struck him. He grinned mischievously and followed Claire into the shower.

When Claire and Sherlock (finally) exited the bedroom, they found Sarah and John drinking coffee. Sarah was reading one of the bridal magazines filling the flat while John read the paper. Both looked up at the pair as they entered the room. They shared a knowing glance and smirked, before looking towards the pair again.

"Have a nice... _sleep?_" Sarah questioned, unable to keep the grin off her face. John was unable to speak, laughing hard behind his paper.

"How did you know?" Claire asked

"You're not exactly... _quiet_." Sarah explained gently.

"Quiet!" John said, finally able to keep his laughing under control "I bet the whole of London heard you!"

"Oh god" Claire said, her cheeks flaming red. Mrs. Hudson took this moment to pop into the flat.

"Hello dears" She said to Sarah and John, before her attention came to Claire and Sherlock standing in front of the bedroom door. A small grin came to her face. "Having a bit of fun, I see Sherlock" She said knowingly, and John burst into laughter, with Sarah soon behind.

"Oh god" Claire said again

"Next time it's at your place" Sherlock whispered to her

"Agreed" She whispered back.

A few minutes later, after Mrs. Hudson had left and John had stopped crying in laughter, Claire headed for the door with a quick wave to the group.

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked

"To the chemist" Claire answered honestly

"On the kitchen cupboard" Sarah replied, returning to her book. Claire headed into the kitchen, only to find a small packet with a chemist brand emblazoned on it. Sarah followed her into the room.

"I knew you wouldn't be prepared" She said knowingly, before walking back out of the room.

"Thanks" Claire called out to her retreating figure.

"No problem" She answered from the lounge room.

Around an hour later, the four sat around a particularly difficult thousand-piece puzzle. They had pushed the magazines, papers and book covering one section of the floor to make way for the piece of thick cardboard Sherlock had managed to find for Baker Street. There was now a big valley in the floor where all the junk that had been covering the floor was now pushed into small mountains at the side. The group was engaging in an easy conversation when Claire asked a question that had been pulling on her mind.

"Sherlock?"She asked him

"Yea?" He replied, concentrating on the piece in his hands

"Do you think Moriarty is really dead?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I just have this feeling... that he's still out there. Maybe it's just because I've seen him get killed twice, sort of messing with my brain... but still. He 'came back' once, what says he won't do it again?"

"I definitely agree with you"

"You do?"

"A man like Moriarty doesn't die that easily. I'm sure he's out there somewhere. I don't know where. I don't know how he got away. I don't know if he will come back for us. But I think he's out there."

"You think Moriarty is still out there?" Sarah asked in confirmation

"Why do you all ask such silly questions? Isn't that exactly what I just said?" Sherlock chastised in a distracted manner.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about this?" John asked him

"I don't think he will be coming back in the too soon future." Sherlock replied, placing a piece into the puzzle

"How soon, would you say?" Sarah asked

"I'm not psychic"  
>"Close to it" John muttered under his breath<p>

"How do you think he escaped?" Claire asked

"No idea whatsoever. But he has his ways, his plans, and his back-up plans. I wouldn't be surprised if it was once again just a decoy, but it may have been him, in which case he will be in hiding, recovering"

"Is there any chance that he is actually gone for good?" Sarah asked

"An extremely minimal chance"

"And you were planning to tell us when?" John asked

"I wasn't planning to tell you" Sherlock answered honestly

"Ever considered we might want, even need, to know?" John asked him, exasperated

"Why would you need to know?" Sherlock asked "It's me he's after"

"But he keeps trying to kill us to get to you" Claire explained

"And I'll be there to stop him" Sherlock said "What's the big deal?"  
>"Just warn us in future if you think a crazy man is going to kill us, ok?" John asked<p>

"Moriarty isn't crazy. In fact, he's actually very intelligent. Possible even..."

"Promise me you'll warn us" John cut him off

"If you're going to be so annoyingly insistent, then yes, I'll warn you"

"Thank-you. Was that so hard?" John said snidely

"Well..."  
>"Don't answer that" John cut him off, disgruntled<p>

"You asked" Sherlock rebutted

"Rhetorical question" John said, saying each word in an isn't-that-so-obvious manner. Claire and Sarah looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Boys were so childish.

A/N: A long-awaited moment in the Claire-Sherlock relationship! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again to all reviewers, especially my terrific trio shedanceswithherpast, rochellie98 and kie1993! Thanks guys :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Two Months Later**

"Next. Just next." Claire said, covering her eyes, not wanting to look at the shocking white puff of material coming off Sarah.

The girls were attempting to find a wedding dress, as there was just two weeks left to go until the wedding. It was crucial that the dress would hide Sarah's bump as much as possible, but it was difficult.

"Ooh, that one's good. The pattern hides the bump, even though the dress is fairly tight. Could you give it one shoulder?" Claire critiqued.

"We might have a one-shouldered one out back" The shopkeeper, Dell, said, gesturing to a worker to check out the back.

"Will it go with the lily?" She asked, as she had many times that day. Claire picked up the plastic flower beside her and put it up against the dress.

"I think it looks stunning" Claire commented

"I agree" Sarah said

"Should we start on the shoes?" Dell asked

"Yes!" Sarah squealed excitedly.

"I think a white pointed shoe, low heel obviously, would be nice" Claire advised

"Yes, I can see that" Sarah commented, and Dell went off to find their request. Meanwhile, her helper returned.

"We have the dress in a one shoulder" She said, and Sarah smiled brightly

"I'll just go try it on!" She said, taking the dress and going into the change room.

Another half hour later, the girls had progressed onto veils. Sarah wanted something simple and covering the face, something elegant and pretty.

"How are you having your hair?" Dell asked

"I don't know" Sarah admitted

"I'd say up, with a clip in the back" Claire advised, and Sarah nodded

"A headpiece?" Dell asked

"We'll see" Sarah said excitedly, and Dell went off to see pick some suggestions.

When she returned, the girls instantaneously picked a simple veil with a thin white trim. It was classy, beautiful, and it went perfectly with the dress.

"It's perfect" Sarah said, looking at herself in the mirror, twisting and turning to see different angles.

"Agreed" Claire said, admiring how gorgeous Sarah looked in her bridal gown.

"I'll take all of this" Sarah said, heading back into the change room to put on her normal clothes.

All through the next week, Sarah was a living hell to live with. She was frazzled from the wedding and hormonal from pregnancy, a deadly combination. John, for his part, had a very strong ability to grin and bear it. He was also very happy to help by offering compliments, accepting blame (Even if it wasn't his fault) and supplying chocolate. This was good, because Claire and Sherlock weren't quite as patient with her moods, and often escaped to Claire's place to hide. Now Sarah was living at Baker Street full-time, having sold her apartment, she was always around, unescapable. This also meant that she and John were searching desperately for a place to move to. It was hard, trying to find an apartment that would be kid-friendly.

It was with one week before the wedding that the perfect flat arrived, in the form of Mrs. Hudson popping in to check on her now busy flat. John was sitting in an armchair with the paper, checking for a flat advertisement, and occasionally reading one out to Sarah to have a look at.

"Sarah, have a look at this one" John called to her, and she came over and peered at the newspaper

"We can't really afford it" She said

"We can't really afford any of the good ones" John said sadly

"What are you going on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked

"We're looking for a flat" John answered

"Am I wrong in assuming you like Baker Street?" She asked

"Of course not, Mrs. Hudson, but when the baby comes, and it's already crowded..."

"Oh, I don't mean 221B, obviously." She said, jutting in "I mean 221C. I know that Moriarty left a dead kid's shoe there and all, which only makes it even harder to sell, but it's still quite a nice spot"

"What do you think?" John asked Sarah

"I think it would be great!" Sarah said

"Well it's settled" Mrs. Hudson said "You can have a look at it in the morning"

**Eve of Sarah's Wedding**

Sarah was watching as Claire carefully applied the French manicure to her nails. She had been growing them long for the wedding, and after filing them neatly, they were ready for paint.

"Can you believe I'm getting married tomorrow?" Sarah asked for the thousandth time. Claire was glad it was 7pm, not 7am.

"I know! Soon you'll be Mrs. John Watson!" Claire said, just as cheerily as she had the first time

"It's so exciting!" Sarah exclaimed. Claire was about to continue in the normal routine, when her phone buzzed.

**We think Moriarty's back. Think.**

**Sherlock **

"Oh man" Claire said

"What is it?" Sarah asked, happy face falling

"Moriarty"

"If he ruins my wedding, I'll kill him with my bare hands" Sarah said gravely

"I don't doubt that. I think Moriarty is slightly smarter than to try and ruin your wedding day" Claire comforted.

**We'll be on alert**

**Claire xxx**

"I hope so" Sarah said doubtfully

"How could he ruin your day when you're wearing your pretty dress?" Claire asked, and Sarah's face lit up again. It was _so_ easy to distract a bride.

**Like hell. I'm coming over**

**Sherlock**

"Sherlock's coming over" Claire warned Sarah

"No!" Sarah complained

**Don't fret. If Moriarty decides to join the party, Sarah will scream at him and rip off his arms. Girls only, remember?**

**Claire xxx**

"He can't come" Sarah pouted

"I'm trying to convince him of that" Claire explained

**She's pregnant, Claire. She's in no state to rip arms off anybody**

**Sherlock**

"He has a point" Claire said to herself

"What did he say?"  
>"That you're pregnant, and in no state to protect yourself"<p>

"Hmm..." Sarah said, thinking

"I know!" Claire suddenly exclaimed "How about we invite around the rest of the girls tonight, and do a massive makeover?"

"Perfect!"

**Inviting around the girls tonight. Safety in numbers. **

**Claire xxx**

Claire's fingers went wild over the keys as she started texting the girls.

**Ok, but I'll be calling in the morning. John says don't stay up too late. He also says tell Sarah he loves her. And that he can't wait to see her dress. And he misses her. All that stuff.**

**You girls have fun. Be safe.**

**Sherlock**

"We got the all-clear from Sherlock. John says don't stay up late, he can't wait to see your dress, he misses you and he loves you" Claire told Sarah

"Aww! Tell him I love him too!"

**Sarah says she loves him too. We'll be fine.**

**Claire xxx**

Half an hour later Jess, Fran and Julie arrived at Claire's door. Letting the giggling girls in, they all sat around and asked Sarah questions about her wedding. This was a better plan than Claire expected, because it boosted Sarah's happiness and meant she had someone else to gush over her. Claire sat on the couch, adding into the conversation when needed. Sarah was quick to bring out the dress to show, and the girls were commenting and complimenting. Sarah was over the moon, and the girls were only helping to keep her there. Claire was sure that tomorrow would be a success.

Unless Moriarty showed up.


	29. Chapter 29

Claire woke up next to Sarah, whom she had shared the queen bed with. She got up quietly and slipped into the lounge room. Fran was already up, drinking coffee at the table. Julie was beginning to stir next to Jess on the couch. Claire made herself a coffee and sat next to Fran.

"What did you think of the dress?" Fran asked her, looking dubious

"I admit, it doesn't look stunning on the hanger, but it's very flattering on" Claire explained. Fran nodded her head.

"How's the groom?"

"No idea. He's been doing really well so far, though."

"How are you going?"  
>"It was good to have you guys around to take the pressure off" Claire admitted. Fran was Claire's most understanding friend, and she felt safe telling secrets to her as she was the world's best secret keeper.<p>

"So how's Sherlock?" Fran asked

"Good" Claire said, nodding and sipping her coffee. All her friends knew about her 'new experience' with Sherlock.

"How's Fred?" Claire asked

"He's been really busy with work recently, if you know what I mean"

"You think he's cheating on you?"

"It's crossed my mind several times, but I don't want to say anything unless I'm wrong."

"Sherlock could take one look at him and give you a definite answer, I bet" Claire said

"He'll be at the wedding; I'll bring him over to you"

"Ok. I really hope it's just work"

"I don't know what I want. He's been a bit of a jerk recently"

"Either way is good then"

"I guess so"

"Hey all" Julie said quietly, hopping up from the couch and grabbing a coffee

"Hi" Claire answered

"Hey" Fran said

"How's Sarah?" Julie asked

"Still sleeping" Claire replied "I'll just check up on her now" Claire walked towards the bedroom door and quietly opened it. Sarah was stirring, about to wake up. Claire came in quietly and sat on the bed where she had been sleeping.

"Have a nice sleep?" Claire asked her.

"Mmhmm" She replied, not actually talking

"Do you know what day it is today?"  
>"Mmhmm"<p>

"Wake up sleepy-head; we've got a lot of work to do before four"

"What time is it?"

"Seven." Claire answered. Sarah sat herself up.

"I'm getting married today" She said

"Not if you don't get up!" Claire said, hopping out of the room and into the kitchen, where she put two pieces of toast in the toaster. Jess was at the table where Claire had been before.

"Bride up yet?" She asked

"Getting there" Claire said, as Sarah walked into the room

"Hey everyone" She said

"Hey" The girls answered. The toast popped from the toaster, and Claire took it out and laid it on a plate. Her phone rang, and she answered it.

"Hello?"  
>"Hey, Claire, it's Sherlock"<p>

"We're all alive"

"Good to hear it. Sarah excited?"  
>"She will be when she wakes up properly"<p>

"How are you going?"  
>"All good. You?"<p>

"John's having a minor freak-out, but other than that it's all good over here."

"Good to hear it. I'll see you at the wedding, ok?"

"See you then"

"Bye"

"See ya" Claire hung up the phone and got back to the toast.

"I can't believe I'm getting married!" Sarah exclaimed for the hundredth time

"Hold still sweetie" Jess warned her. She was carefully placing bobby pins in Sarah's hair to keep it in place.

"Sorry" Sarah said excitedly

"Which shade for us?" Fran asked Sarah, holding two containers of lipstick in front of her.

"That one" She said, pointing to a pale pink. Fran moved over to Julie and applied the lipstick to her face.

"What do you think?" Jess asked, holding a mirror out in front of Sarah

"You look amazing" Claire said, looking up from the mirror which she was using to apply her mascara

"I love it!" Sarah said, gently twisting her head to see it in the mirror. Jess held up a second mirror so she could see it from the back.

"Claire, can you do my hair?" Jess asked

"Sure" Claire said, putting down her eyeliner and walking over to the chair Jess had been occupying and started combing Jess's hair. Fran finished Julie's makeup and walked over to Sarah

"Your turn" She said, and an excited Sarah sat down to let Fran do her makeup. Julie started sifting through the nail polishes.

"How do you think the guys are doing?"

The guys weren't doing quite so well. At this point in time, the two were waiting outside Mrs. Hudson's door after knocking, waiting for her to come out. The door opened, and Mrs. Hudson appeared.

"What is it dears?" She asked

"The bow tie won't sit" John complained

"Who even cares?" Sherlock asked for the umpteenth time

"Sarah" John replied, as Mrs. Hudson carefully knotted John's bow, and then moved onto Sherlock's.

"You boys need to learn how to do those yourselves" Mrs. Hudson chastised half-heartedly.

"Thank-you Mrs. Hudson" John thanked her, while Sherlock just grumbled about wearing a penguin costume.

"Are you nervous, dear?" She asked John

"More nervous than when they were shooting at me in Afghanistan" John replied

"What's the big deal? You listen to some guy say lots of words, you say some words, Sarah says some words, you kiss her, we eat and dance and you go on a honeymoon. I don't see nerves in any of that."

"That's because you're a sociopath" John calmly explained, adjusting his already straight bow.

Claire and Sarah watched their friends step into their dresses. The three-quarter length dress went just below the knee. It was a rich ivory colour with a pale ivory waistband. Above the waistband, the dress was folded to make a pattern, with matching triangular sleeves. The ivory shoes were high, and gave the girls extra height. The girls looked stunning. Claire was next, stepping into a matching floor-length dress, as she was the maid of honour. Shoes fastened, she looked to Sarah, and she excitedly stepped into her own dress. The floral pattern was beautiful, and her low shoes suited the dress, although they were hard to see in the floor-length gown. Her veil went on with the help of Fran and Jess, and the girls stepped back to take in their work. Sarah was a vision, and the girls sighed appreciatively. Sarah anxiously looked in the mirror, and was stunned silent at herself. She looked amazing, and she felt it too. Her lips twisted upwards in excited happiness, and the girls gushed over her. Everything was set.


	30. Chapter 30

The girls walked towards the garden, where the ceremony was to commence. Fran was up the front, followed by Jess. Julie was next, and then Claire, the maid of honour. Sarah was at the back, next to her father. She was nervous and excited and happy and scared and generally freaking out. She wanted everything to be perfect, but it was such a large task. So far the only disaster had been with the flowers, which instead of an assorted array with pink lilies she had asked for had arrived only pink lilies. This was, however, only a minor setback, and in comparison with the many worse things that could happen, it was relatively minor.

Sherlock watched as the first girl, Fran, came around the corner. Her dark-brown hair was in long ringlets, her dress an appealing ivory colour. She walked slowly, carefully, setting a pace for the girl behind her, Jess. Jess' blond hair was slightly wavy, just below her shoulder. Her dress, matching Fran's, fluttered in the small breeze. Her pace was concentrated, making sure to step in time with Fran with unnecessary detail. She was followed by a (slightly) more relaxed Julie, whose long blond hair blew in the wind. She was indeed a beauty, but her heavily-tanned skin did not blend well with her deep ivory dress. It was Claire who really took his breath away. Unlike the three bridesmaids in front of her, she had a breezy attitude, but still managed to step in time. What was also different was her floor-length dress. Her brown hair was in ringlets, just like Fran's. If he wasn't already standing as best man, it was undoubtable he would have forgotten to stand when Sarah came through.

John also watched the bridesmaids come by, but his attention was fixed when Sarah walked up to the aisle. Her patterned dress was fairly form-fitting, her low shoes not giving her much height (Which would be especially helpful for John when she came to stand beside him) and her veil draped delicately over her face. The smile on her face was a beacon of light, beaming out to everyone around her. The world's best actors could only create a weak counterpart for the expression on her face, its light sparkling magically. John felt the first real smile for an extremely long time touch his face. Away from the stress of wedding planning, Sarah was indeed a stunning, caring and friendly woman. John knew she would become very hard to live with during her pregnancy, but he was a patient man. He'd survive.

Sherlock was bored as a two-year-old during the ceremony. It was as he had said earlier this morning- people said stuff, people ate and danced, people went home. But it was the saying stuff that was giving him hell. Although the ceremony was only twenty minutes long, it was enough to drive Sherlock insane. Sherlock thought about things, then specific things, then Claire, on whom his attention was repeatedly coming back to, then to the wedding he should focus on, then Claire, back and forth like a tennis match. Eventually, his mind made a connection between the two, and he was intrigued about what his mind would make of it. What did he think of Claire and him being something more? Being an official couple, bounded by law? To him, it really didn't matter, he admitted honestly. What did he care if London saw them as together or not? Who wanted to spend ridiculous amounts of money on one day? Who wanted to pose for photos that lived in the cupboard? Who wanted the hassle? The wasted time organising? The never-ending effort? His mind wandered, and so did his eyes, ever so slightly, onto Claire, and it was with Claire that he found his answer.

Claire. Claire wanted all those things.

At least he thought she did. Did she _really_ want those things, or was he just stereotyping her?

But it was clear in her eyes, although Sherlock wanted and tried to ignore it. Her eyes watching the couple were full of happiness for the couple, and that was clear to the eye- but there was also jealousy. So well hidden he doubted she even noticed it was there, and none other than himself (With possibly the exception of Mycroft, and, depending on data Sherlock didn't possess, Moriarty) would ever recognise it. It was locked away into a place it was never to be removed from.

And Sherlock was possibly selfish enough to keep it there.

He was jolted from his thoughts when Sarah and John started kissing, meaning the end of the ceremony, and he clapped to fit into society more than cheering on. He'd seen Sarah and John kiss before- it was not a big deal. However, to all the guests, it was apparently the most amazing thing ever. Sherlock then started to focus again as he was ordered into poses, photos, tie-straightening and so on, his important thought pushed aside for another time.

The travel to the reception at Syon Park, Brentford was a blur. The lights were on, and it was indeed quite stunning. There were tonnes of candles, and the room was lit in a pink light. The cake was three square layers, each level rotated with a white ribbon at the layer's base. There were pink lilies streaming down one side, and a gimmicky wedding topper to finish it off. Claire looked around at what she had helped to achieve, and mentally patted herself on the back. Job well done.

After eating, many people ascended the dance floor. As a part of the bridal party, Sherlock was forced to dance, but left as soon as he felt his commitment was fulfilled, which turned out to be after the first dance. Claire, used to his childish behaviour, instead decided to dance with the children that had attended. There weren't many, but having some parental supervision over them was good, especially considering the amount of alcohol delivered out to the parents. Claire declined, on one point as an example to the children, and as another because she saw Sherlock happily accepting the offer of alcohol. She knew he would be terribly drunk that night, and very hung-over in the morning, something she couldn't face if she, too, was hung-over.

The night was a breeze for Sarah and John, and Sherlock was too wasted to even notice it was passing. Claire, however, felt quite abandoned. The children had been taken home due to the late hour, and the adults were now enjoying getting wasted, which seemed quite silly to Claire. Wasn't this supposed to be a night to remember?

Hiding in the corners and edges, Claire hung to the walls. The previous fun had worn off, and now she was bored and lonely. The atmosphere of the reception was changing, and Claire no longer liked it. It got to the stage where no one would notice if she was to slip away, and with the opportunity open, she did just that.

She escaped the cab and got into her bed, rotating her pillow so she could easily hug it for comfort. Snuggled into the doona and her pillow, she allowed the tears to flow.

And the worst thing was she wasn't completely sure where they were coming from.

Her bedroom door opened, and she prepared herself to rage at Sherlock, but at seeing who her visitor was, her heart stopped in her chest.

"How I've missed having you around"


	31. Chapter 31

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but thanks" Claire said

"_I_ can't believe you're saying that"

"You chose not to ruin Sarah's wedding. I thank you for that"

"I'm a man based on principles" Moriarty chuffed, brushing his suit

"I wouldn't go that far" Claire snorted. She ignored the red lights.

"Get up" Moriarty commanded

"Do I have to?"

"Yes"

"Where are you going to take me?"  
>"Field trip"<p>

"To where?"

"It's a surprise"

"That's a lame surprise"

"Hardly. Now get up" Moriarty commanded, and slowly Claire pulled herself up, retreating from the covers, and a dart slammed into her arm

"Nice surprise" Claire said groggily, as the chemicals pulled her under. Moriarty searched around in her closet, searching mostly towards the back or in hidden corners.

"I guess we'll have to go shopping" He said cheerily, and gestured to the snipers to take Claire with them.

Sherlock was drunk. His words were slurred. His walking was twisted. His vision was blurred. He was ready to go home.

"Hey, Sherlock" Fran said, her boyfriend next to her

"Whaddya want?" He slurred

"I would like to introduce you to Fred"

"Hello, Fred" Sherlock said stupidly

"Dude, you're wasted" Fred said sternly

"And your cheating, big whoop" Sherlock slurred

"I knew it!" Fran exclaimed

"You believe this absolutely wasted guy?" Fred asked, hurt

"And the facts" Fran said, pointing to the exit. Fred didn't bother to fight with her. He was quite drunk himself, and he stumbled off

"Have you seen Claire?" Sherlock asked Fran

"No, I haven't" Fran said. She was probably the least drunk at the party, but she was still very drunk. Greg Lestrade walked by, and Sherlock called him over

"Have you seen Claire?" Sherlock slurred, downing another beer

"No I haven't" Greg slurred heavily

"She could be in danger" Sherlock said drunkenly

"I'd better call for backup" Greg said, falling on the floor. He pulled out his mobile and texted Mycroft

**Claire mussinf**

"It's all dealt with" Lestrade said, clapping his hands together "I need another drink"

"I could do for one myself" Fran said, remotely depressed about Fred. The two walked off, and Sherlock sunk off his chair onto the floor. He scanned the crowd again, but he couldn't find Claire. He took another swig of beer, and let his worries settle for a while.

It wasn't for another few hours that Sherlock realised the crowd was disappearing. Not wanting to be the last drunken one left, he headed for the door. But where was Claire? He looked around room, but no one there was Claire. He headed for the door once again, and got a cab to Claire's place. No one answered his drunken call, so he let himself in. The place was empty, so he headed off to Fran's, where she might have gone to discuss the wedding and Fred. He knocked on the door, and was pretty surprised when Greg opened it. He was even more surprised to find Greg in only his boxers.

"You seen Claire?" Sherlock asked, slurring

"Nope." Greg slurred. Sherlock turned to walk away, but Greg called him back. "Have you got some protection on ya?" He slurred heavily. Sherlock was too drunk to care as he passed over the plastic-wrapped item "I owe you one" He slurred, and slammed the door in Sherlock's face. Sherlock shrugged and got in a cab.

"Where are you going?" The cab driver asked

"Home" Sherlock slurred

"What's the address?" The cab driver asked patiently

"Two, Two, One, buzzy bee Baker streeet" He slurred, stretching out the 'ee' in street. The driver started driving, and Sherlock sat in the back. "Streeet" He said again, because he liked the sound of it "Streeet streeet streeet streeet"

Sherlock eventually arrived at 221B Baker Street, and he barged into his flat. Sarah and John were on a train, heading towards Liverpool for their honeymoon (Neither wanted to travel too far away) so he had the flat all to himself.

"Hey skully! I'm home!" He yelled "Streeet" And then he collapsed on his couch for the night

Claire woke disorientated and immobile. Her wrists were tied, and her mouth was gagged. She was lying in what appeared to be a caravan. She moved her head up, and she saw Moriarty staring at her. She moved her head some more, and looked around the room. She was, indeed, in a caravan. There was a casually-dressed man at the wheel. They were moving. There was another casual man, and two snipers. Plus Moriarty, that meant she was outnumbered.

"It's 'bout time you woke up" Moriarty said. Claire sat up groggily, and tilted her head to the side, as in to say 'what's going on?'

"I'm taking you on a field trip" Moriarty explained. Claire didn't move her face from its lopsided position

"You're going to visit my son" Moriarty explained. Claire's eyes went wide "And he will enjoy your company very much" Moriarty said, his words heavily implying. Claire wanted to shout and scream and protest, but her mouth was gagged. Moriarty pulled out a shopping bag.

"I even brought you a present. Your closet was terribly lacking" He said, throwing the bag next to her. "Now, if you're a good girl, I'll untie your wrists so you can admire your new present" Moriarty said, and he walked away from her to the front of the caravan.

Sherlock woke feeling ultimately terrible. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry, and he needed to throw up. He was definitely hung-over. He headed towards the bathroom, and he threw up in the toilet. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he picked it up.

"Don't hang up" Mycroft instructed him. Despite his brother's warning, Sherlock seriously considered hanging up. "I have information on Claire"

Claire was grateful when Moriarty untied her arms, and she rubbed them gently instead of doing what she would have liked to do; slap him. He seemed satisfied with her restraint.

"Do you want to see your present?" He asked. Claire shook her head. Whatever Moriarty was giving her, she knew it wouldn't be good for her. "Don't be ungrateful; I'm giving you a nice gift. Open it" Moriarty instructed, the command wasn't obvious but it was there under the soft words. Claire opened the bag and peered cautiously inside. Her eyes went wide, and her restraint snapped. She slapped the ridiculous grin off his face, but it was only replaced by a much, much larger grin. All the same, her wrists were re-tied, and she was left alone to stare at the hideous thing in the box. It was the skimpiest, frilliest and most implying thing she had ever seen.

It was lingerie. And what it implied made her blood run ice cold.

A/N: Thanks to all reviews!


	32. Chapter 32

Claire was feeling a lot of different things. There was obviously fear. Even thought she was trying to hide it, she was freaking out in her head. There was also confusion. Where were they going? What was this about Moriarty's son? How did he get a son? Was son a metaphor? So many questions that she couldn't ask due to her gag, and she doubted would be answered if she could. There was exhaustion, edging on the end of her mind, although it was being overpowered by other emotions. But the thing she felt the most was hunger. She wanted to voice her concern, but she was gagged. Her wrists had been untied again recently, and she would have been able to get Moriarty's attention, but being unable to speak meant that her efforts would be wasted. It seemed she wasn't the only hungry one, and the not-driving casual man's stomach rumbled.

"We'll get food soon" Moriarty said absently "We're nearly there" Claire's stomach turned and flipped, not because of hunger. There was some food in a cupboard, and she walked over to it. She didn't want to wait.

"You don't want to ruin your appetite" Moriarty said "You'll regret it" Claire wanted to eat this food now more than ever, but the casual man pulled her away. "You'll thank me" Moriarty said sincerely, and Claire shivered. What was wrong with the food he was going to give her?

She soon found out. They stopped soon after returning to suburbia, a small town surrounded by forest, a surprising find for Claire. When the two casual men stepped out of the car and into a little shop outside the caravan, Claire heart beat sped up. What on earth was going on?

The two men returned soon after, carrying two bags. Moriarty excitedly pounced on one bag, pulling out three pies. Claire was sick of the gag, and she undid it. Besides, wasn't she supposed to eat now? The two casual men, who it seemed were meant for show, had started eating their pie, and the snipers were heading towards them with an eagerness that was so strong it seemed fake. Moriarty pushed a pie in front of her. Despite the gag now being off, Claire didn't feel much like talking, and had gotten used to using her eyes to translate her words. She looked towards her pie, and then towards Moriarty.

"It is honestly the best food in the world" He explained. He wasn't taking a bite until she did, and this was worrying. Carefully, Claire lifted the pie to her lips and bit off a small bit. It didn't taste funny. It tasted fine. She took a normal-sized bite. It was good to eat again.

"Isn't it the best food you've ever eaten?" Moriarty asked

"It's a pie" Claire stated.

"The best pie ever!" Moriarty insisted

"Not really..." Claire said uncomfortably.

"You're not serious" Moriarty asked, honestly shocked

"It's fine, but it's not amazing" Claire said awkwardly. Moriarty just stared at her, mouth open in shock

"There is something _wrong_ with you" He said seriously. Claire fought back a smirk. This was by far the weirdest thing Moriarty had ever done "No more favours from me" He said grumpily. Claire ate her pie, still not understanding how Moriarty could love it so much, and why he gave it to her in the first place. Maybe he wasn't as mentally sound as Sherlock insisted.

Having finished the pie, Claire decided to try and find out some more information.

"So, what's actually happening?" She asked

"We're going to my son's house where you will give him a nice birthday present" Moriarty said bluntly. Claire swallowed.

"By birthday present..." She started, but Moriarty cut her off

"You will have sex with him, yes. We're nearly there. You might want to put that on" He pointed his finger at the dreaded bag. Claire regretted her questioning. The snipers raised their guns that had been left in their belts

"Ok, ok, I'm going" She said, grabbing the bag and heading into the toilets inside the caravan.

She peered into the bag, more carefully this time. As well as the unmentionable object, there was also a headband with leopard ears attached to it. She groaned. At the bottom of the bag was a pair of heels- leopard print- that were extremely high. Quite a bit higher than what she could walk in. She sighed at the items. She looked more closely at her least favourite item in the bag. It seemed Moriarty had been going with a leopard theme. The black spots covered all her required items. Mad that no one seemed to be rescuing her, she uncomfortably removed her pyjama top, which to her mind was quite embarrassing enough. She put on the hideous top, and stared at herself in the small bathroom mirror. If she was in a completely different situation, she might actually like the top. It was rather enhancing. However, the situation as it was disallowed such liking of the object, and she kept her hate towards it strong. Next was the bottom. She hesitated.

"You might want to do something with your hair, too" Moriarty suggested from outside the door. Claire looked at her hair. It was a mess, as it was wont to become after bed-head combined with kidnapping combined with stress. She ignored it for the moment. She stared at the extremely small piece of material in her hands. Or maybe she would deal with it now.

She looked around for a brush, but there was none, only a small comb. From the colour of the hair on it, she assumed it was Moriarty's. She wasn't going to go there. Instead, she pulled her fingers through her hair. It didn't work amazingly well, but it was better than before. Not wanting to move on, she kept pulling her fingers through her hair, pulling on the knots. Even after her hair was relatively neat, she kept brushing. She did _not_ want to put on the bottom. Then again, she didn't want to be in a murder's caravan, but you don't always get what you want.

Claire gave up her ignoring effort and removed her pyjama bottom. She felt awkward, standing in Moriarty's caravan in her underwear. While she was there, she figured she had better make the best use of the facility a bathroom offered- the toilet.

She admitted to herself she was stalling. But it was a good idea.

Moriarty was getting agitated on the other side of the door

"Hurry up in there" He complained. Claire didn't care much for his commands, but his complaints were annoying, and it was inevitable she would need to change. She pulled on the frilly leopard-print bottom. It was horrid. It suited her beautifully, and that just made her hate it more. She placed the ears on her head. Why is it the one outfit she could pull off was lingerie for her enemy's son?

The hardest part physically was the shoes. She had to sit down to put them on, but regaining her balance enough to stand was proving challenging. Plus, her feet were already hurting from the insane height. Something this height had to be adjusted into. She hobbled towards the door and went to open it, and then looked down at herself. She really didn't want to go out there. She wobbled, dangerously close to falling, and she threw the door open. She needed to sit down.

It was obvious by the expressions of the five men outside the door that slipping and falling in her heels was the least of her problem. Their eyes were searching, seeking, and finding. All except Moriarty, whose only expression was of satisfaction.

"We had better be close" Claire complained

"We're there" Moriarty said, and Claire realised the caravan wasn't moving.

"Well let's get going" She said. There better be a rescue party outside or, god help her, she will strangle this poor son with her bare hands.

There was no rescue party. The place was deserted. By 'the place', I'm referring to the huge mansion hidden in a thick forest all around except for the path. Claire felt more trapped than if she had been tied at the ankles in her shoes. She couldn't walk, yet alone run, so that method, however flawed it already was, became useless. She allowed herself to be dragged into the house, both in defiance and inability to walk. She looked around the big house. It seemed empty. Moriarty called out to his son, who it seemed was named Moriarty Junior. Moriarty Senior was so vain. Moriarty Junior, however, didn't seem to be answering. Moriarty dragged Claire up the staircase towards a specific position, and when Claire saw the door she assumed this must be _the_ bedroom. Her heart beat faster, but Moriarty had no hesitation to open the door.

"Son, answer me when I call you!" He yelled, and his eyes fell upon the dead boy on the bed. He was just a boy, looking only around seventeen. Claire shuddered at what would have happened if he was still alive.

"Well, that's just a damn shame" Moriarty muttered, and Claire was dragged along the staircase once more.


	33. Chapter 33

"That's it?" Claire asked

"Well, it was _supposed_ to be more interesting, but my son is dead, so I guess that wipes that idea out" Moriarty complained

"I mean, you're just going to leave your son there?" Claire asked again

"I'll get someone to clean him up later" Moriarty explained, not at all bothered by his son's death

"You really are a heartless man" Claire said icily

"Indeed" Moriarty said, as he pushed her once again into the caravan  
>"Now what?" She asked<p>

"Now we go threaten to kill you in front of Sherlock again." Moriarty explained happily "This actually saved a lot of time. It could have saved a lot more, but it did save time"

"Can I get changed?" Claire asked

"Of course not." He lowered his voice to a low, sexy whisper "You are just far too attractive"

"Oh please" Claire complained

"Well, I am in need of a new heir" He contemplated. Claire couldn't help punching him. It must have been decently hard, because the crunch was loud, but not as loud as Moriarty's shout. The snipers held her back, tied her wrists and gagged her, but she didn't care. She had made Moriarty feel pain. It was all uphill from here.

But it's never that easy. Roughly two hours later Claire sat, still gagged and tied, still in the hideous costume, still in the caravan, when the she first heard the siren. Just one at first, and then multiple sirens, all blaring.

"I thought this might happen" Moriarty said sadly "Escape plan" He said to the men, and they all nodded

"What about her?" One of the snipers asked

"She stays here. It shouldn't take too much luck to let her live long enough for me to use her again" He said. The men stood near the centre of the caravan. One of the snipers pulled down a rope, and all the men, except the one at the wheel, grabbed on. The man at the wheel was placing a brick on the accelerator, aiming the caravan for the turn. There was a large clearing, and then thick forest He got up and jumped for the rope, but he was too late, and the caravan tilted strongly forward as it left the road, leaving the driver to slam though the front windscreen and under the wheels. His scream chilled Claire's blood, but the other men seemed undeterred. Claire was trying to get a grip on the chair she was sitting on, trying to cover herself, but it was hard to move when she was tied up. She used her free legs to pull herself onto the floor, using the chair as a barrier. The men climbed through an escape in the roof, and jumped to relative safety as there were no screams of pain. She knew that would make it away. It was Moriarty's way. She, however, had her own issue, as the caravan made impact with a large, thick tree. The front of the caravan was smashed and compacted, making Claire glad she was further back. Bits of glass from the windshield and the front windows went everywhere, and Claire could dully feel some of them impacting with her skin. She ignored it, however, and managed to move her hands from in front of her to behind her head. It was hard, but she managed to untie the gag. Using her teeth, she untied her wrists. This was considerable harder, because it was hard to grab a specific part when she couldn't see where her mouth was going. She did, eventually, get through it, and she crawled towards the back of the caravan, where her old clothes were. She picked up the shirt, and dusted it off. It was ripped and torn, but it was fine for her purpose. She wrapped it around her right hand, which she found was bleeding slightly. All of her was bleeding slightly. She ignored this, and used her cushioned hand to punch the rest of the glass from a further back window. She laid the shirt out on the ledge as best she could, and climbed through the small hole. The world outside the caravan was brighter than inside, and the blue and red flashing lights weren't helping. She headed numbly towards them, and towards a fleet of police officers. There were many staring at her, and other averting their gaze. Some people were trying to regain others' attention. It seemed leopard print was a plus. She toppled in her heels, and she began to fall. She was caught by a pair of steady hands that helped her to her feet and wrapped her in an orange shock blanket. The steady hands lead her away from the mass crowd of officers, and sat her down against a police car. He sat down next to her. They were silent for a long time. Some paramedics came towards them, and the man became clear due to his voice

"Get off" Sherlock growled at them, and honestly scared of the strange man, they left the two alone. Claire was comforted by his voice. She was in such a daze she hadn't recognised Sherlock until then. She rested her head against his shoulder, but her movements were hard, tense. He pulled her onto his lap and began to rub her shoulders. He hummed the bars of '_Like only a woman can_' in her ear, and she closed her eyes. She relaxed against him, letting the strain come out of her muscles. She let the hatred towards Moriarty when she had punched him flow from her hands. She let the hatred towards Moriarty when he had just left his dead son flow out of her shoulders. She let the hatred towards Moriarty when he made her wear the costume linger a while before letting it go temporarily. She would never truly forgive him for that. She let Sherlock fill in the empty space. She let him calm her. She let her senses come back. That was what she regretted, because with her senses came pain and it was very sharp. Sherlock registered her stiff jolt, and helped her towards the paramedics he had previously pushed away. He stayed with her as they took her to the hospital

"We need to buy you a room here" He commented

"How come _you_ never seem to get hurt?" She complained

"Because Moriarty's still focused on using you to get to me. Every time you are hurt physically, I am hurt emotionally. He has his bait"

"I punched Moriarty, you know" Claire said sleepily. A grin lit up Sherlock's face

"You hit him hard?" Sherlock asked

"I think I broke his nose" She laughed, but she was tired, and she was falling asleep. Sherlock knew this was a sleep she would wake from, and he wasn't scared.

"You did a good job" He complimented her. He kissed her forehead, and she drifted into a land more peaceful than the one he was still in. He watched her breathing, and although he hated to admit it, her most fetching attire. He felt bad for liking it, especially after he knew who had gotten it for her, but he couldn't help it. Eventually his morals and hatred for Moriarty took over, and he covered her in the safety blanket, but the memory of the leopard lingerie lived on in his mind.

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, especially kie1993 and shedanceswithherpast for their ongoing support. Next update probably won't be for another week :( but I'll do my best.


	34. Chapter 34

Sherlock was once again in a medical room. Luckily, Claire was awake this time. It was certainly an improvement.

She was recovering rapidly, and her injuries were blessedly minor. She had multiple cuts and bruises, but that was all. Sherlock left Claire briefly to bring her a change of clothes, and she was discharged shortly after changing.

"I can't believe Moriarty had a son" Sherlock said for the umpteenth time as the two searched for a cab

"Well he did. And now he doesn't." Claire replied

"How could I have not seen that?" Sherlock asked himself again. Claire didn't even bother answering anymore. Her input wasn't noticed.

"Who was the mother?" He asked himself

"Sherlock, stop thinking about it. It's in Greg's hands now" Claire said. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she realised how stupid they were. Sherlock stop thinking? Was she insane?

"I _need_ to figure this out. Someone killed his son. Maybe we have an ally?" Sherlock said, still in thought "And that ally had to have known about the son. How did he know?"

The conversation at Baker Street was minimal, and often wasn't there at all. With John and Sarah on their honeymoon, and Sherlock's head in another place, the only noise to fill the flat was Sherlock screeching on his violin. With Claire still on holidays after the trip she never took to Greenland, for once it wasn't Sherlock who was bored

"I'm so over puzzles" She said, after almost a week of silence and thirteen puzzles. Of course, there was no reply. Claire would normally have called Fran in this position, but she hadn't been answering her phone since the wedding. Julie and Jess had informed Claire that Fran wasn't picking up for them, either. Just the day before they debated whether or not to check up on her. The decision had ended up no, but in her state of complete boredom, Claire decided to go against the vote and visit her anyway. She didn't bother saying goodbye to Sherlock on her way out- it would have been a waste of breath.

Claire arrived at Fran's house with a bag of cupcakes from The Sugar Shack, a little bakery close to Fran's house. Fran could never resist cupcakes, especially from The Sugar Shack. She knocked on Fran's door

"Hey Fran? You in there?" She asked, to no reply. Almost no reply. Claire put her head against the door, and she heard sobbing.

"Fran, open up honey" Claire called "I brought you some cupcakes from The Sugar Shack" There was a sound of movement, but the door still didn't open. "They're warm" Claire coaxed. She heard the handle turn, and out came a distressed Fran. Her makeup was smudged from tears, and her hair was every which-way.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Claire asked her. Fran was sobbing too hard to reply. Claire opened her arms, and Fran hugged her, tears soaking Claire's shirt.

"Greg" She sobbed "And I" She sniffled. She couldn't say anything more, the tears once again flowing. Claire had heard from Sherlock that Greg and Fran had been planning some pretty big things the night of the wedding, but Sherlock was too drunk to remember most of the details. It seemed that Fran and Fred had broken up. Sherlock couldn't remember how this happened, but Claire was pretty sure Sherlock had said something about Fred and his cheating ways. "We..." Fran still couldn't make sentences.

"It's alright" Claire said, taking Fran inside and sitting her on the couch

"We had sex" Fran finally blurted out

"Sherlock told me you were planning to" Claire admitted

"And Greg..." Fran said, and she started sobbing again. Claire rubbed her back. "He left it" Fran took a big, deep breath and sniffled "On the kitchen table"

"Left what?" Claire asked cautiously

"The condom" And Fran descended into sobs again

"Did you take the pill?"Claire asked cautiously, needing information but not wanting to push Fran into hysterics

"I didn't realise until that afternoon, but when I did I took it" Fran confided

"Maybe everything will be ok..." Claire tried to comfort, but Fran cut her off

"It's not ok!" She yelled, and the hysterics Claire was trying to avoid came. Fran feebly pointed to the test on the table

"Oh" Claire said faintly, but her mind was going a mile a minute;

_Fran's pregnant? Isn't this all a little too déjà-vu? Didn't I go through this system just a couple of weeks ago?_

Fran was crying, but Claire still needed some more information

"Does Greg know?" She asked gently

"No. He had gone before I woke up" She cried, running out of tears

"You need to tell him" Claire instructed

"I can't. I haven't got his number" Fran sobbed

"I have it in my phone, I'll give it to you" Claire said, passing Fran her phone. She stared at it for a long time

"I can't" She sobbed

"Well how are you going to tell him?" Claire chastised

"Can you tell him?" Fran asked. This wasn't the result Claire had been hoping for.

"Fran, you're the one pregnant with his child, not me" Claire said gently. Fran didn't have any tears left to cry over this

"I can't tell him" She said, pushing the phone towards Claire

"It's not my responsibility" Claire explained

"It is now." Fran pouted, grabbing the bag of cupcakes from Claire and starting to eat the sugar-filled delights. Claire sighed, and rang Lestrade's number

"Claire, what's wrong?" Lestrade answered. At first Claire was hurt, but then she realised the only reason she would call Lestrade is if there was something wrong, like she was right now.

"You need to come to Fran's place. Now" Claire said. If Fran wouldn't call him, she'd have to tell him face-to-face.

"Look, the night of the wedding, I was drunk; she was drunk, it didn't mean anything..." Greg tried to defend himself  
>"Aww shit" Claire cursed. This wasn't going to be as easy as last time.<p>

"Don't tell me she thinks we're together or something..." He complained

"She damn well does now, and you'd better start! Get your ass over here right now!" Claire commanded down the phone line

"I have a job to do, Claire. I can't deal with hysterical one-night stands right now" He argued

"How about _pregnant_ hysterical one-night stands?"

A/N: Lestrade's in for it now XD Will update A.S.A.P.! Thanks to my clan of reviewers, especially kie1993, shedanceswithherpast, bluenose141, Crimson TigerLily and rochellie98! (That took me a while!) I love hearing from you all!


	35. Chapter 35

It didn't take Greg long to arrive after that. He was shaken, and there were bags under his eyes from a few too many late nights. He was dressed for work, and looked strange next to Fran in her casual clothes.

"How did this happen?" He asked blankly. It was a perfectly legitimate question, but his tone implied it was rhetorical. Fran was awkwardly sitting on the couch, an empty bag from The Sweet Shop on the floor beside her. It was an awkward air that filled the room. Claire checked her mobile, as if she could have missed its chirp, as if she had someone that would text her, but it was blank. She decided to send a text to Sherlock, but she couldn't think of any way to explain what had happened. _Hey, Sherlock, guess what! Fran and Greg are having a baby! Isn't that so great?_ Claire looked around the room for inspiration, and all she saw were two blank stares focused on her, as if she was supposed to explain to them what happened now, as if she knew. This provided the inspiration she needed.

**KMN**

She considered what it would be like if Sherlock took this seriously and came over with a gun. At least it would cut through this awkward silence.

**If I was to kill you now, I'd never get to torture you through many other things most likely worse than what you are encountering.**

**What are you encountering?**

Trust Sherlock to always be on the negative side of things.

**Guess**

This could be interesting, and if it took her away from the blank gazes, it was worth it.

**Fran's lonely and brought herself multiple cats that now live with her?**

Claire tried to imagine Fran as a cat woman. It wouldn't be too hard, but Fran was more a dog person. Dogs were loyal and dependable.

**Fran can't have pets in her flat**

Claire briefly wondered where Greg and Fran would live. Right now, they didn't look like they would be living anywhere.

**Someone died?**

That was pretty broad for the great Sherlock Holmes. She was about to tell him so, when she got another text.

**I got it! Fran's pregnant with Fred's baby?**

That was pretty close, but not completely on target

**So close, and yet so far. Greg's baby**

She looked up at Greg. If he was to get rid of the horrified expression on his face, he'd be a pretty good father.

**No kidding? Lestrade's going to be a dad?**

Whether he played the part well or not, Greg was going to be a father. The awkward silence in the room, and the non-moving Greg and Fran were starting to freak Claire out.

"At ease, people. This isn't a funeral" She commanded them, but instead of relaxing they went into stiff positions of what they thought looked relaxed, also known as the exact opposite of relaxed. Claire sighed

**Seems that way. I've got to deal with the living dead, I'll be home later**

"Now what?" Fran asked. Two pairs of eyes set on her. The focus then shifted onto Claire.

"How should I know?" Claire said, answering their gazes. Greg and Fran looked at each other

**Do you want some help?**

Came Sherlock's reply. It touched Claire that he was willing to try and help out. That was a rare thing for Sherlock to do. She was about to decline his offer, but then thought better of it. Surely one more person in this awkward triangle couldn't be a bad thing? Of course, it would mean Sherlock would never offer to another thing in his life, but if Claire had to fight through this weird silence, why couldn't Sherlock too?

**I would love some**

Claire felt a bit sorry for Sherlock. She was bringing him into a depressing circle, and he couldn't even send her John or Sarah instead, as he normally would have done, because they weren't coming back for another day.

Claire thought about how lucky she was. She hadn't ended up in this situation herself. She'd seen Sarah and now Fran be trapped, but had been able to avoid the net herself. She was grateful for that.

But in a weird way, she wasn't.

Sherlock eventually arrived to the not-so-cheery group, two blank faces and one pleading one. He sighed.

"When will you people learn?" He asked. He'd learnt from experience the best way to get a reply was to insult. The people he was talking to weren't very feisty right now, however, and no one replied. "What's the opposite of shut up?" He asked the group. Yelling talk at them wouldn't have the same effect.

"Look, everyone, this isn't getting us anywhere" Claire said "Fran is pregnant with Greg's baby. So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know" Greg whispered. Fran just nodded.

"Are you going to try and get rid of the child?" Sherlock asked

"I don't know if I could handle a child" Greg admitted. Fran remained silent. Sherlock looked at her.

"One vote keep, two votes get rid of" Sherlock announced, looking at Claire. "You're up"

"I can't just kill it!" Fran cried

"My vote's keep" Claire said, sitting down next to Fran

"What am I going to do?" Greg asked, running his hand through his hair

"Fran really wants that child" Sherlock told him "So you're screwed"

"Thanks for your support" Greg complained sarcastically.

"Thanks for making me come here" Sherlock replied sarcastically "This day is now totally ruined"

"I trump that. The rest of my life is ruined" Greg added conversationally. At least he was talking

"Fran's a nice girl. I'm sure you'll learn to love it"

"Oh yes, you're sure, because everything you say is gospel" Greg whined

"You ask me to come to the crime scenes" Sherlock argued

"Mycroft likes it when I invite you" He shrugged

"I should have known" Sherlock muttered. Maybe he was losing his touch. He was missing so much these days.

"So are you going to get married?" Claire asked

"Err..." Greg said uncertainly

"I guess so" Fran said, also uncertain. She hadn't thought this far through

"You guys don't _have_ to get married. It's becoming more and more common that people don't bother with marriage" Claire helped

"You're getting married" Sherlock instructed. He saw the look of wanting in Fran's face. Sure, it wasn't the way she'd planned, but if she was going to get a family, she wanted to do it right.

"Then it's settled. We've still got all Sarah's bridal books, all the people she employed for everything, we can use all the same people if we need to" Claire encouraged. The two still weren't convinced. "Why don't you two go on a holiday somewhere?" Claire suggested "Get a chance to know each other better"

"I haven't taken a holiday in a long time" Greg admitted

"Me either" Fran agreed

"Perfect. You two go away, and I'll start the basic planning." Claire insisted. Fran and Greg smiled at each other. Claire let out a relieved breath. It was improving, at least.

Then why did she feel the same uncomfortable feeling she had felt when planning Sarah's wedding?


	36. Chapter 36

The next week passed in a blur for Claire. John and Sarah arrived home, only for Greg and Fran to leave for Hawaii. As they were furnishing the flat downstairs (Mainly the nursery), Claire was planning wedding number two. Fran didn't want a big wedding. In one way, she didn't want a wedding at all, but in a bigger way, she did. She balanced this out by inviting only her closest friends and family, a small wedding. She had a ring on her hand before she left for Hawaii, and she seemed happy enough. Greg, for his part, was getting use to the idea. Claire, however, was dubious. She didn't spend hours on her wedding like she had Sarah's, because a part of her doubted it would go ahead.

She was right, but not in the way she had planned.

A week after they had left for a two-week trip, Fran and Greg came to Baker Street.

"Fran! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Hawaii!" Claire exclaimed when she saw her friend at the door, but she wrapped her arms around her all the same. Greg pushed past them into the flat. A single glance of Greg was enough for Sherlock to know what had happened.

"We shouldn't rely so heavily on those pregnancy tests" He commented, and returned to his computer where he was replying to his emails.

"You're not pregnant?" Claire asked Fran

"No, I'm not. It's a big relief, really" Fran said. Sherlock noticed she was still wearing her engagement ring, but not on her marriage finger. The fact Greg hadn't asked for it back suggested this wasn't the end of the Greg-Fran relationship. It was comforting for Sherlock to know the wedding was off. He felt the pressure mounting on something he didn't plan to do for many, many years yet –if ever- and he was glad it was gone. It meant he didn't feel guilty every time he looked in Claire's eyes, and that was something he was deeply grateful for.

The atmosphere around town was changing. There were Christmas lights going up around stores, and the gimmicky statues and such were on sale inside them. Cheap and tacky presents were being gift-wrapped everywhere, songs about how wonderful the honestly dreadful snow was were being played loudly, and children were out everywhere due to the Christmas break.

For Sarah, it was a time to get whisked away into the land of childhood. For Claire, it was time to admit she had to go back to work soon. For John, it was time to figure out what to buy for everybody. For Sherlock, it was painful.

A bunch of people were planning to meet at Baker Street for the holidays, so Claire and Sarah were trying to figure out what to serve for everyone. The boys were absently chatting in the lounge room, Christmas just another chore on their to-do list. The meal was to be traditional, only straying on the path of dessert. The girls flipped through magazines, trying to find good recipes.

Before they knew it, Christmas Eve was upon them. Sherlock insisted he and Claire go to her house that night, even though she practically lived at Baker Street nowadays. Claire was confused, but also extremely excited. She knew that when Sherlock wanted to go to her place, he wanted to do something privately.

"I hope you don't mind, but I got you an early Christmas present" Sherlock told her in the cab

"I don't mind" She said excitedly. She had trouble sitting still, even with the seatbelt to hold her back.

"I just hope you like it" He said, allowing some nervousness to enter his voice

"I'm sure I will" She said convincingly, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, and went back to fidgeting.

Claire opened her door with difficulty. In her rush, she made it harder on herself. She told herself to slow down, but it was hard. She was too excited to think of slowing. Sherlock just watched; an amused smile on his face. He loved to see her all flustered about his present. It made him feel important. Like he didn't already live on too high a shelf.

The key finally turned in the lock, and Claire pushed through the door, Sherlock following her, closing the door behind him. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against the door, pressing his mouth on hers. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close. They kissed, their hot breath mixing. Sherlock seriously considered forgetting about the present until tomorrow, but it wouldn't be the same then.

"In your room" He said between kisses. Claire didn't pull away, and after a while Sherlock guided her towards her room himself

"Can't it wait for tomorrow?" She complained

"Not really, no" He insisted, and this information brought back Claire's curiosity. Sherlock let her go, and she remover her grasp on him. On the bed was a blue well-wrapped present with a neat silver bow. From her brief knowledge of Sherlock's wrapping skills, she knew he hadn't wrapped it himself, but on closer inspection she saw the odd paper tear near the tape. He had spent special effort to get it perfect. She smiled at the thought that had gone into it.

"I wasn't sure if I was meant to give it to you, or you were supposed to give it to me, so I gave it to you" He admitted. Claire carefully opened the present, revealing a box for a toaster. Her heart sunk to desperately low levels. Of course Sherlock would buy her a toaster. It was so... Sherlock. Sherlock took in her expression, and a disappointed face appeared.

"It's... great, Sherlock" Claire said, even though that made it worse, if anything else. Sherlock's expression was changing rapidly, and eventually he pulled it into a blank mask.

"Open it" He commanded

"I'll open it tomorrow" She insisted. On the bright side, it was a light toaster. A _really_ light toaster. Sherlock's blank face disappeared and a smirk lit up his face.

"Trust me" He insisted, the smirk getting larger. Claire sighed, and opened the box.

"Sherlock" She breathed, looking inside.

"I thought you might like it" He commented "And you thought I'd buy you a toaster!" Claire lifted up the garment. No wonder Sherlock had insisted she open it tonight. The pale pink lingerie was pretty and sexy at the same time. She smiled. She remembered everyone's stares when she had been dressed as the leopard, and although he had hid it rather well, it had been Sherlock's stare she noticed the most. Ever since, she had been considering buying some, but she'd never got around to it. Now she didn't need to.

"Merry Christmas" Sherlock whispered, kissing her lips gently

"Merry Christmas" Claire replied

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers! Sorry about the lack of updates, I'm going a bit slower than I'd like :S


	37. Chapter 37

Claire trudged through the thin layer of snow, holding her coat tightly around her. She followed Sherlock towards the taxi. He was carrying a bag of gifts, knowing that somewhere inside the bag was his gift. For this reason, Claire had put his present at the bottom. If he hadn't been able to tell what it was yet, she didn't need to give it away.

They arrived at Baker Street a short while later, although considerably colder, and went up to 221B. Once inside, Claire put the kettle on and started some last-minute preparations on the food, while Sherlock gazed at the bag he had been carrying.

"You could always help" Claire advised from the kitchen. Sherlock wasn't listening, so she continued to work by herself. A knock at the door woke Sherlock from his thoughts, and he jumped up to answer it, but it opened without his assistance. John and Sarah walked in, a small dog yapping at their feet.

"What did you name it?" Sherlock asked, as Claire came out from the kitchen

"It's adorable!" She cooed, as she patted her legs and the dog came over to her, tail wagging

"He's trained" John informed Sherlock before he could ask the question posed at his lips "And I called him Toby"

"I found him at the pound. He's a poodle. Really intelligent, they say" Sarah added

"Couldn't have asked for better" John said, picking up Toby

"So, shall we start on the presents?" Sherlock asked, once again staring at Claire's bag.

"Isn't Mrs. Hudson coming in for that?" Sarah asked

"I believe so" John replied, and Sherlock sat sulking

"I'm sure she'll be here soon" Claire soothed "Sarah, are these cooked enough?" Sarah headed into the kitchen to help, leaving John and Sherlock alone

"What did you get Claire?" John asked

"Gun" Sherlock replied simply

"A gun. Sh-Sherlock, you got her a _gun_?"

"What did you expect me to get her?"

"I don't know, jewellery or something"

"Just because you consider a pearl necklace an acceptable gift doesn't mean I do"

"How did- never mind. Do you honestly think Claire will be happy to get a gun, though?"

"She's had something else already, and I think she, of all people, will appreciate a good gun" Sherlock explained. John sighed, and sat down

"You can always give us a hand" Sarah called from the kitchen

"Don't bother- I already tried that" Claire commented, and the girls were about to return to work when Mrs. Hudson walked in.

"Merry Christmas dears" She greeted them, placing two heavy bags on the floor and holding some food in the other

"Here, let me get that" John offered, taking the food from her and bringing it into the kitchen

"Merry Christmas Mrs. Hudson" Sherlock said, his focus still on Claire's bag

"I guess we can start then" Sarah said, coming out of the kitchen and throwing a present to Sherlock "Merry Christmas"

"You're kidding" He said, holding the package in his hands

"No" She said with a cheeky smile, and Claire came out of the kitchen to join the crowd. Sherlock ripped open the gift.

"That hat" He complained

"It's called a deerstalker" Sarah helped

"Well, put it on" Claire encouraged, and Sherlock regretfully placed it on his head

"It does suit you" Mrs. Hudson commented

"I thought you hated that hat" Mycroft said, coming through the door with a bag of his own

"I do" Sherlock said between clenched teeth "And what are you doing here? You never come for Christmas"

"I was invited"

"By whom?"

"That would be me" Claire said

"Why?" Sherlock asked

"No one deserves to be alone at Christmas, no matter how much they want to. Besides, you said you wouldn't be able to make it?" Claire said, aiming the last part at Mycroft

"A guy confessed" Mycroft said, waving it away. "I brought presents" He said, handing gifts around the room

"Thank-you brother dear" Sherlock said, pocketing his envelope

"What is it?" Claire asked Sherlock

"Ten thousand" Sherlock said simply

"What?" She asked, dumbfounded

"He doesn't work. How do you think he survives?"  
>"Fair enough" Claire countered<p>

"Sarah, I left yours downstairs by your door. No point carrying the cot all the way up here and back again" Mycroft explained, and Sarah nodded

"What is this?" John asked, holding up a small card "Some kind of library card or something?"

"An all access pass" Mycroft announced

"What?" Sherlock asked "Why didn't I get one of those?"

"It isn't there so you can make the world your playground, Sherlock. It's for important access to files and information"

"I'm honoured" John said honestly

"Be careful with it" Mycroft warned, and John nodded

"Mycroft, I hate to disappoint, but I don't have a gun" Claire said, holding up a leather gun case

"Damn you Mycroft" Sherlock complained, digging into his own bag by the tree and tossing a present to Claire

"Why the bloody hell is it not on safety?" Claire exclaimed when she opened her present

"Oops" Sherlock shrugged

"Dear lord" Claire said, placing the gun in the case. "Nice fit"

"Obviously. I was informed of what type Sherlock brought"

"Obviously" Sherlock repeated.

"Now I want to shoot something with it" Claire complained

"Not in my flat" Mrs. Hudson warned, carefully opening her own present "Oh my" She said

"You look after Sherlock well" Mycroft said, in an attempt to explain the five thousand dollars in Mrs. Hudson's hands.

"Thankyou" She said "I'm terribly sorry I didn't get you anything, but I didn't know you were coming"

"None of us did" John added

"I did" Claire said, grabbing a square box from her bag "Well, I thought you might." She handed the gift to Mycroft.

"A top hat?" He asked, looking at it

"Now you're the hat brothers" Sarah laughed. Mycroft put the hat on his head

"Suits you" John commented

"Goes with your umbrella" Sherlock added. He looked into his bag and, and pulled out the top present.

"Here you go" Sherlock said, throwing the present to John, who opened it cautiously

"Earplugs?" John asked

"You'll thank me" Sherlock said

"You will" Mycroft added. John felt a bit worried

"Stop scaring John" Sarah chastised the brothers

"Merry Christmas dear" John said, handing her a neatly wrapped gift. Sarah's eyes went wide as she looked at the necklace

"It's... beautiful" She said, holding it up for John to place on her

"Who's the big one for?" Sherlock asked, pointing to the large present under the tree that John had dragged up the day before

"Claire" Sarah said

"Oh god" Claire said worriedly. She walked over to the large gift. What on earth had Sarah gone out and brought her now? She was always bought the best gifts, but you never could tell what they were. Sherlock was obviously interested in the present by the was his eyes were looking at it. Claire pulled at the bright Christmas paper, and revealed a karaoke machine.

"Sarah, you didn't..." Claire asked, but the evidence against her claim was right in front of her

"You'll get used to it" Sarah encouraged

"How well can you sing?" Sherlock asked her

"I'm alright" Claire said, and Sarah snorted

"You can brag; Sherlock always does" Sarah encouraged

"Brag?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows. Seeing Claire wasn't going to explain, Sarah took over for her

"Indeed." Sarah said blankly, but the challenge was there

"Better than me?" Sherlock asked

"By a large margin"

"Please, this isn't a competition" Claire calmed

"It could be" Sherlock challenged, and his eyes wandered to the karaoke machine. Everyone in the room followed his gaze.

"A sing-off? I have to listen to my brother sing?" Mycroft asked

"Sounds fun" John voted

"Not today" Claire ruled "I haven't sung in a long time"

"Too long" Sarah complained, but the pressure was off her words.

A/N: Don't fret- the action will be back in just a few chapters!


	38. Chapter 38

Sherlock's patience was wearing thin, and eventually he had to ask.

"What did you get me?" He asked Claire, moving the conversation of singing. He'd seen her knowing smile for weeks. She got something she was particularly happy with.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" She asked, throwing a small item at him. He felt the weight and co-ordinated it with the size. A phone? He opened the package. He was right, obviously. An iPhone 4S, it appeared.

"So you don't have to bug us every time you want something" Claire smiled "It's got voice control"

"Clever" Mycroft commented

"It's on" Sherlock said "and it's locked"

"I know you like a challenge" She smiled

"Indeed" Sherlock thought, looking at the screen. The area around two, five and one had been pressed. It took Sherlock mere seconds to crack it. Two five one two- the twenty-fifth of December.

"I knew you'd get it in a flash" Claire admitted

"How does the voice control work?" Sherlock asked

"The microphone button" Claire said, pointing towards a button on the screen.

"Handy" Sherlock mused, placing the phone into his pocket.

"I took the liberty of adding a few numbers" Claire added

"Alright, my turn" John said with a mischievous smile "One for each of you" He handed Claire and Sherlock an envelope each. They ripped the top open.

"I don't know if I've made it obvious before, but I'm trying to live to at least 40" Claire said

"It's safer to skydive than it is to catch a train, because of the safety precautions taken beforehand. You'll be fine" John soothed

"What gave you the idea of skydiving?" Sherlock asked

"I wanted to give you something more exhilarating than a case" John explained "And this came to mind. I figured you and Claire would want to jump together, make it a date"

"And here I am, getting you a nice, safe present that supports keeping your feet firmly on the ground" Claire said, handing John a present.

"How'd you get the size?" Sherlock asked

"I asked Sarah"

"These are good quality shoes" John said, twisting them in his hands

"They're of the highest comfort in the shop" Claire confirmed

"Thanks Claire"

"Not a problem"

"Now I'll be able to run to the shops for some chocolate at all hours of the night" John joked

"No need" Sherlock said, passing a package to Sarah

"How fat are you going to make me?" Sarah asked, looking at the large assortments of chocolates.

"I'm sure it'll be fine" Claire said, pressing hard on Sherlock's foot before he'd been able to make a comment. "Although" Claire picked up the last gift in her bag and passed it to Sarah "This probably won't help"

"50 uses for chocolate cookbook. I swear you two are in on this together, this evil scheme" Sarah smiled

"A happy coincidence" Sherlock said

"Now what?" Mycroft asked

"Well, I thought I'd get you a little something for the flats" She said, handing Claire and Sarah a gift each.

"Thank-you Mrs. Hudson" Claire said, looking at the box on her lap

"I didn't even know they had tea-makers" Sarah commented

"I guess that's it then" Mrs. Hudson said "We should probably clean this place up.

"But Mrs. Hudson, we haven't given you anything" Claire said, heading behind the tree for present resting against the wall "We all chipped in" She smiled, holding it out to her

"You didn't need to get me anything" Mrs. Hudson said

"And you didn't need to get us anything, but we did it anyway" Sarah said.

"It's stunning" Mrs. Hudson said "Where did you get the photos from?"

"As I said, we all chipped in."

"How did you get Sherlock to pose for a photo?" Mrs. Hudson asked

"Through great hardship" Claire admitted. The group looked at the large frame, filled with different pictures of Baker Street and of Sarah, John, Claire and Sherlock.

"There's one missing" Mycroft pointed out

"That's for Sam" Sarah said happily

"Sam?" Mycroft asked

"That's what we decided we'd call the baby" John explained "Sam or Samantha, depending on the gender"

"It's wonderful" Mrs. Hudson said gratefully

"And now, we've got to clean up" Sherlock said, grabbing handfuls of wrapping paper

Sherlock was bored, as usual. It was so common to him it was almost a part of his DNA. Claire wondered if Mycroft was also bored easily. Maybe he never got a chance to find out. Like opening credits to a television show, Sherlock' phone buzzed in his pocket. But there, in itself, was the first difference. The new phone had a different buzz to the old one. It was like the end of a series, the start of a new. Sherlock hesitated to answer, as always, until the third buzz, where he could wait no longer.

**We've got one with your name on it. Literally. 1 Linhope Street**

**G.L.**

"That's close" Sherlock said. That broke the pattern

"Where?" Claire asked, knowing from experience what he was referring to

"Linhope street"

"That's scary close"

"And the crime literally has my name on it. I'm guessing Moriarty"

"Isn't everything these days?" Claire complained

They arrived at the scene, without John because he was at work. It was an old house, more like mansion, by the size of it.

"That's one big house" Claire admired

"How can they even find the body?" Sherlock asked

"We can't" Lestrade said, coming over to them

"How do you know there's a crime then?" Sherlock asked

"There was an anonymous tip saying there had been gunshots from here. The neighbours didn't hear anything, but we checked just in case. It's empty, they say, but we found a message here that suggests the tipster was Moriarty."

"My message?" Sherlock asked

"So it says" Lestrade said, leading them towards the house. Inside the door, it's easy to see the red writing on the wall. It was spray-painted on, but at first glance it looks like something much more sinister

**Can you find my little treat, Sherlock? In my maze of riddles, fixed specially for you? **

"Is this supposed to make you want to go in? Because it just makes me want to leave" Claire commented, but it seemed it did, indeed, want you to go in, as Sherlock looked around questioningly for an entry.

"Where do we start?"


	39. Chapter 39

"It seems the first is over there" Lestrade said, pointing towards the left where two stone doors stood, different from the rest of the house. A marking on the wall read;

**The + is + so you – the –**

"We can't figure out what it means" Lestrade admitted

"Is the plus and minus symbolising something?" Claire asked

"Left and right" Sherlock announced after a minute "The right is right so you left the left"

"Clever" Lestrade commented

"A maze of riddles" Claire said, quoting the message on the wall

"So we take the right door?" Lestrade asked

"No. Claire and I take the right door" Sherlock enforced

"We have perfectly good men, Sherlock" Lestrade said

"I don't need people dragging on behind me" Sherlock explained

"Fine. Just me and Claire then" Lestrade said

"Fine. Just you and Claire" Sherlock allowed "On one condition"

"What condition?" Lestrade asked sceptically

"What I say goes" Sherlock said

"Doesn't it always?" Lestrade asked, as he followed Claire who was following Sherlock through the right door.

"Be back soon. Try and keep mobile contact" Lestrade ordered the team

"You better not get stuck" Anderson warned

"I'll keep you informed of what answers to pick so you don't get lost, Anderson" Sherlock called, ringing Anderson's cell

"Don't hang up" He said through the phone, as he entered the next room.

"Bloody hell" Anderson said through the phone

"I'm trying to help you" Sherlock insisted

"I can do without you on the scene"

"Without me you wouldn't be heading in the right direction" Sherlock said "I'm putting you on loudspeaker"

"Can you hear me?" Anderson asked

"Loud and clear" Lestrade called

"What's the next puzzle?" Anderson asked

"There's a sign here, but I can't see it well" Claire said, taking her phone out of her pocket and using its glow to light the sign

**Sorry there's no light, there's no power down here. It's all technical pressure switches and clockwork. There are many doors, though. Don't be afraid when they close behind you. It's just so you don't decide to quit. I don't like quitters very much. And you can get someone to follow you, but they'll probably get lost too. Wait, did I say you'd get lost? I'm sure you won't get lost. To be here in the first place, you must be at least a little bit smart. Not smarter than me, but still. And you can't even leave now- if you try and go out the door, the whole house will fill with toxic gas. Have fun! **

"Where do you go forward?" Lestrade asked. Claire moved her phone around, lighting the walls.

"There are some doors here" She explained "They have something on them..."

"Door 1- long-way-down pit" Lestrade read

"Door 2- spikes cavern" Sherlock read

"Door 3- electrocution floor" Claire read "I thought he said this was a maze of riddles, not a death trap!"

"It's not a death trap" Sherlock said, walking towards door 3 "There's no power down here, remember? This guy _is_ smart! Even Moriarty couldn't make this- just fix it"

"We're going to die" Lestrade cried

"If you get stuck, we'll come in" Anderson said through the phone

"And die too?" Lestrade asked him. Anderson didn't reply.

"You won't die, drama queen" Sherlock said, going forward

"Why are you so certain?" Lestrade asked

"Because I'm the one solving the riddles" Sherlock said confidently

"You're going to die" Anderson said through the phone

"I know" Lestrade said sadly. They walked towards the closed door, and as Sherlock stepped on a raised section the door opened. He walked through, and when he stepped off the pressure pad at the other end the door closed. Claire and then Lestrade followed carefully.

"Here's another one" Claire said, holding her phone up

**What English word has three consecutive double letters?**

"Err..." Sherlock said "I didn't study the dictionary all that much"

"Neither" Lestrade said

"I'll get one out" Anderson said

"We'll be in here forever!" Lestrade complained

"Or not" Claire said "This guy is tricky. Even if there was a word with three consecutive double letters, I doubt that's it"

"What do you think it is then?" Anderson asked through the phone. He'd already sent someone off to get him a dictionary

"Something that's double, but isn't, like a commonly misspelt word or something" Claire said

"Double, double, double" Sherlock said, and his hands started making movements at nothing in the air as he thought "Double 'u'!" He cried

"'W' something" Claire said

"Start searching" Lestrade told Anderson.

"Start at w o. That's more common than w e" Claire told him  
>"The w could be in the middle" Anderson mentioned<p>

"I'll check it out" Claire said, getting into her internet to research "There's not enough signal" She complained

"We better not get disconnected" Anderson said

"I sure hope not" Claire said.

"There are no words fitting the description with w in the middle" Donovan said through the phone

"Thanks Donovan" Lestrade said

"Wobble, woe, wog..." Anderson began

"Start at w double o, Anderson" Sherlock said blankly

"Right" Anderson said, embarrassed "Wood, wooden, woodpecker, woodwind, woodwork, woody, wool, woollen, woolly..."

"Stop, stop!" Sherlock commanded

"It is woolly or woollen?" Lestrade asked

"Where do we insert the answer?" Claire asked

"Move the light around" Sherlock commanded. On the wall was a small stone keypad

"Some clockwork" Claire said, pressing the w. The door opened

"We don't need the full word, it's the w that counts" Lestrade concluded. Sherlock headed for the door and it slammed down as his feet pressed a switch on the other side. He stepped off, and Claire pressed the w again. Lestrade went through, and then Claire.

"Light" Lestrade said. Sherlock and Claire both used their phones to see the wall.

**Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it,  
>Five in the middle is seen;<br>First of all figures, the first of all letters,  
>Take up their stations between.<br>Join all together, and then you will bring  
>Before you the name of an eminent king<strong>

"A number?" Lestrade asked

"There's numbers and letters on this keypad" Claire said "I think the numbers are a ruse"

"What letter means 500, though?" Lestrade asked

"Roman numerals" Sherlock said "Starts and ends with d"

"Should I put d in?" Claire asked

"Yes" Sherlock said, and she pressed the d. Nothing happened

"Maybe we need the whole thing?" Lestrade asked

"Probably, there are riddles for the whole thing." Claire said

"5 is in the middle, so d something v something d" Anderson said

"David. A is the first letter, and one, which looks like i, is between v and d" Sherlock said blankly, and Claire put in the digits. Sherlock walked ahead, and his phone made a dial tone

"Damn. Must be out of range" Sherlock said. More panicky than before, Claire and Lestrade followed him into the next room.

"What happens if we get stuck?" Lestrade asked

"Anderson comes through" Sherlock said

"So we're staying here to wait for Anderson?" Lestrade asked

"Nope" Sherlock said, pointing his phone at the wall to put some light on the subject

**I can be long, or I can be short.  
>I can be grown, and I can be bought.<br>I can be painted, or left bare.  
>I can be round, or square.<br>What am I?**

**P.S. - Just a warning: the next one has a time limit. But don't fret- that's the end**

"A time limit?" Lestrade said worriedly

"Easy" Sherlock said

"We have no wireless and no communication to the outside world. No, not easy Sherlock" Claire told Sherlock

"We'll be fine, stop panicking. Now, what can we grow?"

"Food" Lestrade said

"We grow" Claire said, quoting Sherlock

"What grows that we can paint?" Sherlock asked

"Can we paint ourselves?" Claire asked

"Not really" Sherlock declined. They sat in silence for a while. Claire started to chew her fingernails. Were they going to be trapped in here?

"Don't chew your nails- it's a terrible habit to break and it's breaking my concentration" Sherlock cussed.

"Fingernails!" Claire cried

"Of course!" Sherlock realised, tapping the letters into the wall and walking through the door

"Shit" He said on the other side of the door. Claire and Lestrade were quick to follow him. There was a stone wall, and it was slowly creeping towards them. There were digits on the floor, zero to nine, and a simple symbol on the wall. Pi.

"God help us all" Lestrade said

"Stupid no connection" Claire cussed

"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled, and he went into his deepest chambers of thought to try and remember as many of the digits as he could.


	40. Chapter 40

Claire stepped on the three, and stared at the digits on the floor for a decimal point. There was one at the top, and she walked around to reach it. Lestrade pressed the one and the four as Claire walked back around.

"Isn't it... one?" Lestrade asked

"One five?" Claire asked. They looked to Sherlock but he was too deep in thought to perceive it.

"Try it?" Lestrade asked Claire.

"I don't want to be wrong" She said nervously

"We both said one" Lestrade reasoned. Neither stepped towards the one.

"I'm not pressing it" Claire said. Lestrade was shaking as he edged his foot towards the stone one on the floor. He pressed it, and it fell down a tad, just like the others. Nothing bad happened.

"Thank lord" Lestrade said. Sherlock was deep in thought, and the wall was still edging closer. It was about four metres away from the stone numbers.

"Should we go the five?" Lestrade asked

"I really don't know" Claire said. She didn't want something bad to happen if they pressed the wrong digit.

"We can't just stand around" Lestrade said, pressing the five. It lowered down like the other.

"Now what?" Claire asked

"We wait for Sherlock" Lestrade said. They stood in silence, staring at the wall approaching.

"Is it just me, or is the wall speeding up?" Claire asked once it reached three metres away from the digits

"I have a bad feeling" Lestrade admitted. They walked closer to the wall, and watched as it increased speed, hurtling at them faster and faster.

"Sherlock!" Claire called. He didn't reply.

"Help me push the wall back" Lestrade instructed

"Will it help?" She asked

"Maybe a bit"

Sherlock sifted through his mental notes as quickly as possible. He came up with pie originally, meat pies, thinking about how Moriarty had given one to Claire. He sifted past that, but again reached pie, not pi. He quickly sifted past that to pi, but then there was a large jumble of numbers he couldn't sort through. He scrolled through, but there were hundreds of digits in his mind, and pi started mingling with things like ages, birthdays, addresses and phone numbers. He remembered his birthdays, insignificant to him though they were. He sorted through his brothers' birthday. He sorted through John's birthday. He forced it all aside. More jumbled numbers, mobiles this time. Mycroft's, Mrs, Hudson's, John's, Claire's. He forced them all aside, and focused on 3.141. He came up with a postcode for places in Australia, gene patterns, colour numbers, some more addresses and phone numbers. He forced them all away and looked at pi, and only pi. The jumbled numbers suddenly arranged, and he sped to the front of the list. He looked up, and saw Claire and Lestrade forcing the wall away not thirty centimetres away. He moved towards the keys as Claire cried out

"We've done 3.1415!" She called, her voice under strain as she pressed against the wall in a losing battle. Sherlock jumped towards the nine, and stepped back cautiously as it slipped pressed down

"It does that" Lestrade explained as he pressed against the wall. Sherlock accepted this and went on to the two. The wall was edging closer to the digits, ten centimetres away. Sherlock stepped on the six, five and three in quick succession.

"Five, eight, nine, seven, nine, three, two, three, eight" He counted to himself as he jumped on each. He pressed the four and it fell out beneath him, leaving him to jump off to the side. The wall pulled away and Lestrade and Claire collapsed on the floor from effort. The wall went further back then what it had been when they'd first walked in, and a small hole was revealed at the back of the room. The wall went back further, and when it clicked into place a large gun was placed through the exit hole and aimed at them.

"You _do_ love a challenge, Sherlock" Moriarty said "And I really think I outdid myself this time. It took a long time to get the clockwork working again"

"Why all the guns?" Lestrade asked

"I'm here to make an agreement. Sherlock, as much as you've been fun, I've got a bigger fish to fry with someone else. And frankly, I have to give up my extremely fun hobby. That means you, Sherlock" Moriarty explained sweetly

"You're going to kill me in cold blood? After all these games?" Sherlock asked

"Oh, no, of course not! I feel a good battle would suffice a proper end" Moriarty proclaimed

"How antediluvian" Sherlock complained

"A battle of guns, Sherlock" Moriarty expanded

"If I wanted that, I'd go to war" Sherlock yawned

"With captives"

"Slightly better... but who would be captives?"  
>"Why, you and I, Sherlock. Oh, and Claire too"<p>

"How will the battle work?" Lestrade asked

"I haven't time for your silly questions. I've left you instructions. If you don't come, I'll have to do something drastic, I warn you" Moriarty threatened, walking away from the hole. The guns soon followed as Moriarty disappeared.

"Can we get out of here?" Claire asked "This place gives me the creeps"

"Agreed" Lestrade said

"I'm disappointed in you, Lestrade" Sherlock cussed

"This is a killing machine! Of course I want to get out of here!" Lestrade argued

"No, no, not that. You started giving me basic open-and-shut cases, and now you give me cases where there's no crime! It's simply terrible"

"Only Sherlock would be disappointed no one died" Lestrade shook his head. Lestrade headed for the small hole in the wall and climbed through, pulling himself up. Sherlock helped Claire up to the hole before climbing up himself. There was a piece of paper on the floor of the new room. Lestrade picked it up and looked at it.

"He's very thorough" Lestrade said, looking at the double-sided instructions.

"Of course. He doesn't want any tricks that aren't his own" Claire said bluntly

"Are you seriously considering attending this 'battle'?" Sherlock asked Claire and Lestrade

"Drastic measures, Sherlock. A guy like Moriarty doesn't leave empty threats, and has no need to exaggerate." Lestrade explained

"Is everyone alright?" Anderson asked, running into the room with a few followers.

"It's all good here. For now" Lestrade addressed his men

"One of us will die" Sherlock said to himself

"I'll do everything in my power to make sure it isn't you" Lestrade comforted

"So I'm screwed"

A/N: The final conclusion of Sherlock Holmes' Soft Side is almost here! Get ready for the big finale!


	41. Chapter 41

Sherlock walked upon the wet field. It was such a crazy place to have a battle. As if it wasn't hard enough to see through the wheat, the fog was starting to set in, and it was obviously quite dark at 11:45. Mycroft had sent his best men; Lestrade had half the police force, Sherlock had 'connections' and John had military colleagues. They stood primed with guns on the field, trying to see in zero visibility. Everyone was equipped with hat lights, but no one turned them on yet. Surprise was one of the few things you could gain in this field. Claire held on tightly to Sherlock as they were ushered to the right side of the field, approximately half way between each side. They'd been there this morning, but it didn't make her any less lost. The only light on for kilometres was illuminating the two cages, side by side and fastened together. Moriarty had sent Sherlock and Claire's cage the day before, and Lestrade sent Moriarty's on their visit that morning. They had been fastened together that afternoon. Sherlock and Claire were checked for any weapons and forced into their cage. It wasn't too clammy, two metres by two metres with three metres in height, and you could see (darkness) through the bars, but it still made Claire claustrophobic. It didn't help having Moriarty smiling in the cage across from them. There was no large weaponry in the fields. It would attract too much attention from the opposition, and could possibly harm its own men without knowing due to the scarce light. Moriarty, Sherlock and Claire were locked into the cage, and the people who had put them there left to join the battle, leaving the three trapped in close proximity.

"Let the fun start!" Moriarty cheered to himself

"Why so cheerful?" Sherlock asked

"I like battles" He shrugged. He dangled the key to Sherlock's cage on his finger. Sherlock had put Moriarty's cage key in his jacket.

"What happens if you die? Will you feel any remorse?" Sherlock asked

"I'd have my revenge long after I'm dead" Moriarty smiled, looking at his watch

"Ten minutes to midnight. Any resolutions?" Sherlock asked

"Other than destroy you? Well, there's that new enemy I mentioned"

"Who is that new enemy, by the way?" Sherlock asked

"An enemy of yours"  
>"Oh?"<p>

"Archenemy"

"Oh. Mycroft will be so pleased"

"I agree"

"This is a pathetic waste of life" Claire put in

"Obviously. That's why it's so fun!" Moriarty smiled

"You really are creepy, you know that?" Claire asked

"I knew I should have worn the Newman suit" Moriarty complained

"I don't think that would help" Sherlock added

"You obviously haven't seen a Newman suit" Moriarty pointed out

"Obviously"

"Five minutes to go" Claire added

"Don't you just love a good countdown?" Moriarty asked. He looked at his own watch "Your watch is wrong. There's two minutes"

"This is one new year to remember" Sherlock commented

"May it not be our last" Claire told Sherlock

"That depends which side of the cage your sitting in" Moriarty mentioned

"Why did you make us go in cages anyway?" Sherlock asked

"I've fought you in battles of wit before. Boring, been there, done that. Now I want to fight you in a battle of recruitment. Who recruited the best allies?"

"I bet Mycroft would have sent more if he was in our position" Claire mentioned

"I doubt it" Moriarty said

"Either way, he didn't send enough" Sherlock concluded.

"Twenty seconds" Moriarty pushed in "And then we get to see everyone put on their funny little lights and aim guns"

"That's sick" Claire said.

"Ten. Nine. Eight." Sherlock counted

"Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three" Claire counted on

"Two. One" Moriarty added "Happy new year!"

"For who?" Sherlock asked

"Me, obviously" Moriarty expressed. Fireworks started in the middle of the field and lights lit up the sky and the field in unison.

"It begins" Moriarty said hungrily

John tried to turn on the funny head light. He wasn't used to them, and he found it difficult to turn on. He had to take it off, and he dropped it in the dark. As he bent down, a bullet whizzed over his head. It was like Afghanistan all over again. John stayed low, placing the light on his helmet. He wanted to crawl around, but he had nowhere to crawl to. He wasn't sure if he was facing the enemy or not, and he didn't want to shoot for fear of hitting someone on his team. He stayed to the ground, moving occasionally when he heard footsteps approach. He listened closely to the gunfire, where it was coming from, where people dropped. He heard one close by and edged towards it. A sniper was bleeding on the ground, clearly not on John's team. He was struggling to pull himself up. John shot him in the head and crawled away. He heard another person drop somewhere close by, and edged towards them. They were from his team in an army uniform. John pulled his medical pack off his back and looked around. He moved around to flatten the crops in a small circle around the man and started bandaging his arm.

"Are you alright?" John asked him, hoping to get some verbal response. A pained moan escaped the man's lips. John brought the canteen he had brought to the man's lips and tried to clean his wound as best he could.

"I didn't know we had medical staff" The man choked out

"I may be the only one" John explained

"I guess I'm pretty lucky, then" The man said

"I guess you are" John said. He heard the fall of a body nearby. "I'll be right back" John said, handing the medical supplies to the man. John crawled over to the over body. It, too, was one of his, this time one of Lestrade's men. John dragged him over to the other man. This new man had been shot in the stomach, and was bleeding heavily.

"Can you hold this here?" John asked the first man, holding some material to the man's chest. The first man did so with his good arm, while John scrambled around in his medical box. There was a rustling in the field as a man came towards the small circle John had made. John pulled out his gun and aimed it at the place where the intruder would run through. One of Moriarty's men burst through the wheat, and John shot him before the other man had a chance to realise he'd stumbled upon a group of Sherlock's group. John wrapped a large bandage around the second man's torso, trying to keep in the blood. When John was sure the man was breathing properly, John grabbed the enemy body and used him to flatten some crops around him, making a neat circle around his patients. John crouched down besides his patients with his gun in his lap, his ears alert and his hands tending to the men besides him.

Sherlock watched Moriarty's face with every gunshot, every bullet that soared through the air and contacted with another body was a tilt to the smile on Moriarty's face. For what seemed like hours Sherlock watched his rival, watching him rejoice in the death of so many innocent people. It was Claire who was the first to break the silent observations.

"You must have some sort of plan" Claire said to Moriarty "Otherwise, it makes no sense. All of this seems meaningless without some sort of climax."

"Of course I had a proper end prepared" Moriarty tutted "A simple one-on-one battle" Moriarty smiled "All this is just a fun distraction"

"Tell me about this battle" Sherlock questioned

"We fight so often mentally. I think it's time for a physical battle, don't you?" Moriarty asked

"I thought you didn't like getting your hands dirty?" Sherlock asked back

"I can make a special exception for you, Sherlock. You are, after all, my special little hobby"

"So when will this battle start?" Claire asked

"Whenever you're ready" Moriarty said

"I'm ready" Sherlock insisted

"Well fight me, then!" Moriarty insisted

"What do you mean?" Claire asked

"There must be a hidden exit" Sherlock thought, looking around the cage, pressing against the bars. Claire started looking too. Sherlock looked down at the hole in the bottom of his cage.

"Help me push it over" Sherlock instructed Claire

"Sherlock, are you sure you want to let Moriarty out of his cage?" She checked

"I need to finish him off once and for all. I can't have him ending more lives and getting away again." Sherlock encouraged. Claire and Sherlock pressed against one side of the cage, falling over as it smashed into the floor. Moriarty had clung to a side railing which had now become the roof, and he let go of the railing, dropping lightly onto an old wall. Sherlock helped Claire up, and left her as he walked to the opening in the cage. Moriarty joined him outside.

"Should be easy" Moriarty said, swinging at Sherlock. Sherlock ducked, but was hit as Moriarty kicked his lowered form.

"I know all your moves, Sherlock" Moriarty taunted

"It's still two against one" Sherlock taunted back

"She can't fight" Moriarty puffed

"All she'd have to do is finish you off" Sherlock said, quickly striking Moriarty in the stomach. Moriarty bent over, and Sherlock went for the head, but Moriarty pushed himself backwards to avoid the blow. He was quick to regain his feet.

"She'll have to do more than that" Moriarty teased, quickly striking Sherlock's nose. The two circles each other, Sherlock's nose bleeding down his face preventing him from any more trash talk.

"If you broke his nose, god help me Moriarty" Claire threatened

"Ooh, on the defensive, are we?" Moriarty taunted. Claire didn't reply. Sherlock threw a punch at Moriarty's head, but he ducked. Sherlock jumped back from Moriarty's kick before it contacted. They circled some more, and Sherlock feint punched Moriarty's head. Moriarty ducked instinctively, and Sherlock punched his lowered head before it could rise again. Sherlock heard the jaw crack slightly. There go his teeth. The two circled again, until Moriarty was standing in front of Sherlock's cage, facing Sherlock on the other side. Moriarty stepped back and twisted, punching Claire in the head and then in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, and Moriarty forced her head into a bar on the way down. She collapsed on the ground. Sherlock filled with rage as he jumped on Moriarty's back and kicked and punched anything he could. He kneed Moriarty in the groin and he dropped in pain. Sherlock jumped off and kicked Moriarty in the head. Moriarty made to lunge at Sherlock, but Sherlock elbowed him in the head. Moriarty fell to the ground, and Sherlock grabbed Moriarty's head and smashed it against the metal bar again and again, satisfied with the cracking sounds it made as it impacted on the metal. Satisfied that Moriarty was well and truly dead, Sherlock dropped the body and rushed to Claire's side. Now how to alert everyone Moriarty was dead.


	42. Chapter 42

John sat around his group of four. They were all strong fighters, and he suspected that they would all survive should the battle end soon and medical assistance be more available. He heard another body drop and he sneaked around to find it. He head a bullet go off from the direction of the first drop, and he heard a second drop further away. John creeped closer, slower than before, and peered through the wheat. Lestrade lay on the grounds, bleeding out of his leg.

"Greg, it's John" John said "I've got a small group. Come on" John said, gently grabbing Greg. Greg didn't fight as John brought him to his medical circle.

"Who's this?" The first man, Leo, asked. He'd been of great assistance to John, protecting the circle when John went to investigate nearby disturbances.

"This is Greg Lestrade, colleague of mine" John said, laying Greg down and looking at his leg. Greg blacked out, but John could live with that. A jumbled, loud beep ran out across the field. It was a mixture of the ringtones of every person the field. At first it took a while for everyone to realise what it was, but after they did, they checked their phones. Cheers and cries of horror rang out across the field. John checked his phone, but it hadn't received the text. It rang alone seconds later, and John answered on the first ring.

"Hello?" John asked hurriedly

"John, it's Claire... Moriarty knocked her out..." Sherlock said

"Moriarty?" John asked

"Dead" Sherlock spat. John breathed deeply.

"Where are you?" John asked

"Middle right" Sherlock instructed.

"Where am I?" John asked him

"Keep walking in one direction until you reach the edge, then walk around" Sherlock instructed

"That could take hours!"

"Have you got a choice? Claire's hurt, John!"  
>"And I've got five injured men right here, one of which is Greg"<p>

"Is he ok?"

"I think so, just a shot to the leg. Call some ambulances, and I'll try and find you"

"Ok"

"Good work Sherlock"

"You too John"

"What's happening?" Leo asked

"We won" John announced. Leo and another man in the group cheered.

"Luck's on my side today" Leo smiled

"Mine too" John said

John, Sherlock, Greg, Sarah, Fran, Jess, Julie, Sam, Mrs. Hudson, Anderson and Donovan stood around Claire's bed. Her injuries were severe, with only a five percent chance of no brain damage. There was a high chance she would be a vegetable to the rest of her life.

'She's tough. She'll make it' Sherlock said whenever John asked, but John knew it had hit Sherlock hard. He knew Sherlock didn't quite believe it. He knew Sherlock worried that his smart girlfriend would become an empty body, or even someone who didn't know him. She could forget everything. Or she would pull through unscathed. No one knew.

John, Sarah and Sherlock sat in 221B Baker Street sipping tea from the tea machine. John and Sarah had been spending a lot of time with Sherlock after Claire was placed into hospital. They made sure he didn't do anything drastic. Anything overly Sherlock. They made sure he stayed down to earth, where he was needed. He needed support from his friends, and as he only had a few, it was important that they stuck by him. Greg popped in often, checking up on Sherlock. His leg was recovering well. His entire team had taken a while off. With Moriarty gone and a traumatic battle over, they were in need of some well-earned rest. Besides, no one felt like working without having Sherlock on call. He was an unofficial part of their section, and they needed him to continue.

Mrs. Hudson came into the room as she often did. She looked white as a ghost.

"Sh-Sherlock" She said fearfully. Sherlock was standing in a flash and at her side before her presence became known to John or Sarah.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked. Mrs. Hudson didn't reply at first. "If it's about Claire, I can take it" He said strongly. Mrs. Hudson shook her head and held out a note.

**Dear Mr. Holmes**

**It is so wonderful to be able to join in such a thrilling game. Hope to see you soon**

**J.M.**

"He's back" Mrs. Hudson whispered

"That's impossible. We all saw the body" Sarah said

"That's ridiculous. He can't be back _again_! It's not right!" John cried

"He's dead" Sherlock said coldly. Everything Sherlock had said recently had been cold.

"Then where's this from?" John asked

"I think we're facing something different this time" Sherlock announced

"Something like what?" John questioned

"Something more dangerous than before"

A/N: Sorry to announce this is the last chapter of Sherlock Holmes' Soft Side! But don't fret, because Sherlock Holmes' Smart Side is coming. Until then, be sure to read Professor Holmes, a story a friend and I am writing. I'll make one last chapter to alert you when Sherlock Holmes' Smart Side has been published. Until then, "Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does to traffic"


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: Spoiler for Sherlock Holmes' Smart Side:

Everyone was there. Everyone who was everyone. There was Sherlock, John, Sarah and Mrs. Hudson, the residents of Baker Street. There was Claire's friends, Jess, Julie, Fran and Fran's boyfriend, Greg, who would have come anyway with the police group of Anderson and Donovan. They all stood around the sleeping figure, watching her eyelids. Claire had shown signs of waking up, and news had spread fast among the group due to Sherlock sending a text to everyone. They arrived as soon as possible, waiting to see what happened to Claire.

**Now published! Check out Sherlock Holmes' Smart Side by looking in the search bar! Find out all about Claire and her recovery, the new Moriarty and more!**


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